The Office Romance
by Crazyfangirl23
Summary: Clara Oswald's new boss John Smith is a strict and direct businessman who has been in the managing business for years. Clara is sure that she can make his life miserable, and John is positive that she is the worst colleague he has ever worked with. Yet when they become inevitably closer, social stigma and their mysterious secrets threaten the fun in their 'office romance.'
1. Chapter 1

A/N - I've been away for ages and I apologise greatly. I've been too busy to write and keep updating a longfic, but now I've finally managed to get one posted. I'm sorry I'm such a bad fic writer, but I hope this is satisfactory enough.

 **The Office Romance**

Chapter 1

Clara yawned, trying her hardest not to stretch in front of people. It would come across as rude. Closing her eyes briefly she wondered if the new boss was going to be as dreadful as the last one. They had called the meetings early in the morning and Clara was still feeling the defects of lack of sleep. She thought back to the night before, where she had binge watched her favourite TV show with a tub of ice cream until 2 in the morning. She knew it would be unwise to do so but she didn't care. Work was easy enough. She wished she could be back there in her flat right now. The whole stupid meeting was going to last them at least an hour and Clara didn't have the patience to listen to a fool that had no idea what he was doing. Finally their team manager stepped forward to make introductions, and everyone suddenly went quiet. It was bad enough she had gotten in late and all the back seats were taken. She at least now had to look like she was listening. Folding her arms across her chest everyone clapped the new boss in, and first impressions were certainly very mixed. For one, his clothing. Wearing a navy frock coat over a shirt didn't count as smart, she thought, just a bad fashion statement. His hair was dishevelled but unruly to say the least, making him look a bit like a hobo from some sort of sci-if movie. His features were sharp and independently angry, with huge, cross eyebrows and an instant frown. She raised her own eyebrows. He would certainly be running things differently in here. For better or worse she had yet to find out.

'Thank you,' he said, his voice deep and clearly Scottish, 'as you know, my name is John Smith, and I am the new manager of this company.'

She did a double take at the name 'John', as she usually did. It only brought back memories which she didn't wish to look back on.

'Firstly, I want to warn you that things will change while I'm in charge, but not everything. Secondly, it's important also to know that I am not a man to mess with. Consequences could be brutal.'

'Wow,' she thought, 'a fool and a dictator.'

'and also, while I am strict on certain things I am also a man of leisure so having fun in any possible way is fine within reasons. I can joke and have a laugh so I'm not as intimidating as I might seem but I have to make sure everyone is fulfilling their roles to the full potential,' he gave them all an intense stare with the bluest eyes she'd ever seen, 'but I'm sure it will all work out. Now I want to hear your names and position in the company. Go.'

Clara had never listened more intently to any other staff meeting than this one. She was captivated by his control, the way he took over the whole room, with one look. It was almost like he shouldn't be in this job at all. He should be an actor.

He pointed to everyone individually, but to her confusion left her specifically to the end, even though she was sat dead in front of him. As he pointed to her she stared at him solidly for a few seconds before she said her name.

'Clara. I'm manager of the customer service team.'

He seemed unusually fixed on her than anyone else, like he was trying to work out the entirety of her mind in one moment. She stared plainly back, daring him to look away first with a raise of her eyebrows. He cocked one of his own in reply and shifted his eyes to the centre of the room. She smiled in small triumph.

'Now, depending on what kind of shifts you all work, we're going to get ourselves into a much more professional routine. Because, when I did look at all your she dukes they really are layabout. And not to mention the countless tea breaks. That room is occupied all day and too often by people who need to work harder.'

Already he was laying it on thick. It amused her mostly, to be honest. She knew how many staff around her were pissed off, and just to test him, she spoke up.

'We just really like tea in this place.' She said, prompting another curious look from him. She wasn't lying either, she lived for tea breaks.

'Too much.' He regarded, still inspecting her like she was furniture.

The next half an hour went faster than she ever imagined, even though he talked about the boring stuff she couldn't be bothered to take note of. He was so...easy to watch, and yet hard to understand. The way he moved, used his hands, even talked...it was all so intriguing to have that adding all to his growing personality. He even let slip some curse words which made her grin internally. She could tell he wouldn't be taking any bullshit from anyone. Which was sad, really. She liked having her fun. As she studied him she couldn't help but think about how good it would be to tease him, wind him up and just how much of a joke he'd take it. From the looks of things he had a temper not to be crossed but Clara was fearless in the face of that fact. He was only a human like the rest of them, after all. What really was so intimidating about that?

When he finished he glanced at the overhead clock, announcing lunch. Clara felt flustered as she sat up straight in her seat for the first time in three hours. She had to been expecting him to go on and on but something in her didn't mind. In fact, it was a relief. She wasn't doing any work, and he was funny to look at. As they all walked out of the meeting room - Clara catching the odd muttered opinions and groans from others - she saw him retreating to what was now his office. She tried to suppress another smile at his gait, so formal and steady she would have thought he was physically tied to the earth. He pushed the door open dramatically and disappeared behind the blinds that were drawn so no one could see in through the window. Clara herself had only been called in there a couple of times. She wondered if he would make any changes, add any personal decoration. Maybe pictures of his wife and kids, but then again by the looks of him he didn't seem the type. Although she had indeed spied the gold ring on his finger.

For the rest of the hour she sat with everyone else, savouring her tea as it was so obvious they would be rationing and tuning in to the thoughts of her colleagues. Most of them were negative, it seemed, which she couldn't fault. Even though the last one had been too careless, the one before that was unbearably cringy and their original boss had been so caught up in his own affairs he had hardly come into the office.

'He can't be that bad, can he?' The woman opposite her said, Rose, contributing the first good comment to arise from the gossiping.

'Well he looks like a lunatic and sounds crazy. Despite what he's saying he's probably harmless,' River said.

Martha shook her head in disagreement, 'I don't know, I wouldn't want to cross lines with him.'

'I would.' Said the voice of Jack Harkness, his eyebrow raised and his smile a coy one.

'Jack.' she giggled, trying to fight the urge to properly laugh at his response, 'of course you would.'

'Well, what do you think of him, Clara?' Donna turned to her suddenly, and Clara covered her face by sipping her tea to hide the smirk underneath. 'I don't really have an opinion on him. Seems genuinely just very...boss like.'

'Maybe too boss like. It seems to me we won't be sitting around here too often from now on.'

'I'm sure I'll get on with him fine, I can relate, Steven cut in, taking a Jammy dodger, 'Scottish.'

'Doesn't anyone else kind of think he looks like an angry owl?' Donna suddenly said, making Clara nearly splutter her tea everywhere. They all laughed until they had tears in their eyes and it only grew worse when he actually appeared by the doorframe.

'What's so funny?' He asked, watching bewilderedly at all of them giggling like schoolchildren. Clara could hardly look at him without spluttering again, and Rose's face was hidden behind her hands. When no one offered to explain the cause he ignored it and instantly turned the subject back to work.

'I think you should all be heading back to your desks now,' he implied, 'oh, and I'll need a volunteer just to give me a tour round the building. Won't take long, just need to know where everything is.'

Even though the laughter had stopped no one was remotely brave enough to offer up their service so Clara, on a stupid and ruthless whim decided to do just that. For some reason he seemed almost displeased by the fact it was her but Clara didn't necessarily care. She only wanted to get out of responding to the thousand emails waiting on her computer.

As everyone filed out rather quietly and returned to their desks Clara finally got up and walked over to him.

'I'm-'

'Clara,' he finished for her, 'I know.'

If he was trying to impress her in any way she was displeased to find out it was working.

'You're quick to remember.'

'Or just quick to forget everyone else.'

Was he flirting?

'Flattered. So, where do we start?'

'Ground floor will do.'

'Right,' she lead him to the lift, waiting at least a full minute before the it finally creaked its way up.

'There are stairs just behind us, we could have gotten there by the time the lift arrived.'

'Yeah, but we're all lazy.' She answered.

He didn't seem too impressed by that. When it started to move the tension built to the highest it could go when they didn't say a word to each other and slowly began to turn awkward. She was convinced the lift was cursed because all elevator rides seemed to pain Clara with random uneasiness.

'So, how long have you worked here?' He finally asked, Clara almost sighing at the boring tactic to make conversation.

'Three years. Have you worked in any other book publishing companies before?'

'One. The companies I've worked in over the years have all produced different products, from toothbrushes to stationery.'

'So you don't actually know much about book publishing?'

'A little bit. But I haven't got much experience in any of the companies I've worked at because I've always had the boss job. I just know how to bring a team together, that's my area of expertise.'

All Clara could do was roll her eyes slightly. There was nothing she could say to that.

'Do you like it here?' He asked, as they swung through the double doors to a huge warehouse full of machines and people in overalls.

'It's a workplace. What's to like? It's not exactly my ideal line of work, but it's got me by so far.'

'And what line of work is that?'

Clara was seriously thinking about not telling him. He was being quite persistent with his questions and she wished he would abandon talk of her from the conversation.

'Teaching.'

'Oh,' he said simply. She didn't know if she should have taken it offensively or not. 'Any particular subject?'

'English.' She dismissed quickly, before leading him to the group of people and introducing them all.

Once they had visited a few other common spots she found he was actually very easy to talk to. Easy for her, anyway. Everyone else couldn't get a word in edgeways once he started prattling on, but that was just the result of two normally chatty people.

'Why'd you volunteer then?' He asked.

'Because no one wanted to and either way, any one of them would have bored you to death. But don't tell them I said that.'

'Of course not.'

'What are you seriously going to change for our team? We're quite independent, we know what we're doing.'

'I don't doubt that. Someone needs to be the boss though, right?'

'I guess so.'

She showed him every place she could think of, ending back to his office.

'Thank you.' He said, searching her face for a little moment more than was necessary.

She began to smile. 'No problem.'

'Okay, then, back to work.' He nodded toward her empty desk.

'Don't push it.'

'I'm your boss. I'm supposed to push you.'

She rolled her eyes while turning away from him, traipsing back to her desk. Despite her first conceptions and his appearance, he seemed nice enough. Something about him drew her in, almost. Like she would actually be willing to do her work under his control. There was something in him that just caught her attention, and yet she couldn't understand why. She didn't even know why she was smiling as she opened her emails and began typing.

Clara caught the eyes of Rose from across the room, silently communicating. Oh, they were going to find out pretty quickly if he could take a joke or not. It was custom to grant their new boss with a prank, however silly it was. From what she already knew of him it was going to be quite the spectacle.

John sat at his desk, already typing away at his new computer. Overall it was a nice enough building, and his impressions of everyone were mostly positive. He would just have to reign them into his routine, make them work a little harder. From what he saw of the progress charts from last year they certainly could be improved. And he was intent on doing just that.

Suddenly the phone rang beside him, waking him up from his thoughts. He quickly finished typing and picked up the phone.

'Hello?'

'Is it alright if I have a quick word with you?' A female voice on the other end said.

'Uhm, well I am quite busy. How long will it take?'

'Only five minutes.'

He sighed. He hated when people interrupted him from his work.

'Alright. Come to my office.'

'No. You come to us.'

He sighed again. 'Fine.'

He put down the phone and dispiritedly managed to get up out of his chair and leave his office. He had only been head of the company for five hours and he was already being called to action. At least they were depending on him, that was a good sign.

He walked up to a woman with blonde frizzy hair that beckoned him over.

'Hello, sweetie.'

He raised his eyebrows and hoped this would be quick.

'What do you need?'

'Just to get to know you. What's your name again?'

'What? Uh, John.'

'Good. I'm River.' She shook his hand and John was wondering what the hell was going on. None of them had really expressed much interest in him over the staff meeting, so he was confused by River's behaviour.

'It's nice to meet you, but I'm afraid I can't stand around chatting, I have important things to do.'

'Already? You must be a very busy man.'

He tried to turn away, but River reached out and spun him back around.

'So John, you're Scottish...how many sheep do you own?' She asked.

John's eyebrows nearly fell off in response to the question.

'Uh, I don't own any. I wasn't born on a farm, I was born in Glasgow.'

'Glasgow? Interesting.' River smiled, although her eyes were looking past him. He tried to turn around again but she stopped him.

'I'm sorry, am I missing something?' He asked, growing impatient.

'No, just manners.' She replied.

His brows furrowed, his mouth trying to speak words but becoming stutters.

'What made you apply for this job, then?'

'Money.'

'Ah, good. Do you like it?'

'Well, I'd like it a lot better if I was back in my office.'

'Nah, it's much better out here. Say, where did you get that coat?'

He looked down to his open buttoned frock coat, with it's bright red lining.

'Uh, I don't remember. I've always had it, really.'

'Interesting.' She nodded, although from the look of her face she wasn't interested at all. Finally her face lifted and she smiled politely at him.

'Well, keep on working hard.' She patted his shoulder and left him standing there, baffled to no end, but relieved he could return back to the safety of his office. As he walked back to his office, his confusion further exemplified at what he thought was his open but closed door, an pushed it open. His eyes went wide, his mouth agape and his anger rising just above the surface. There were shells and pink sticky notes everywhere; all over his desk, his computer, his chair, the walls, even the stationery.

Now at least he knew why River was acting mad. She was trying to distract him while someone had snuck in there to decorate the place. He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling and trying to keep calm. At least he knew better not to trust his new colleagues and leave the door closed at all times, under lock and key.

He marched back to where everyone was working and moving around innocently, all concentrating on what they were doing and purposefully taking no notice of him.

'Now I said I didn't mind jokes but this is stupid.'

At the sound of his voice most of the workers tried hard to suppress their laughter. He noted that the majority were women.

'Who did this?' He asked angrily, his eyes sweeping the whole room. Not one person answered.

'Is this really how you greet new bosses? Prank them like bloody middle schoolers?'

Another round of giggles. Some of them were even hunching over their desks to disguise their laughing faces.

'River, you're taking half of the blame for distracting me,' he pointed at her, 'but I will find out who did it.'

He inspected everyone again, noticing a blonde woman almost on the floor from laughing.

'You, what's your name?' He asked.

'Rose.'

'You did it, didn't you?'

Her face disappeared behind her hands and she hunched over the computer table.

'I'll take that as a yes.'

'I only helped, it wasn't my idea.' She said.

'So, whose idea was it then?' He sighed, impatience mingling with that of anger.

Everyone seemed to look straight toward the culprit, and his eyes followed them and then widened when he discovered it was Clara they were all looking at. A twinge of disappointment appeared in his gut. He thought at least she was decent, but he had been wrong. She was just as pathetic as everyone else.

'You two, come with me. Everyone back to work.' He spat, walking back into his office, Clara and Rose trailing behind him and still smiling. He fought the urge to shout 'grow up' at them.

'Clean this up.' He ordered, and they slowly started ripping the sticky notes from all the surfaces, while he stood over them, arms crossed. Once they had finished he sank back down in his chair.

'I don't know what you were thinking, or why, but that wasn't acceptable. Why the fuck did you do it?'

Clara exchanged a look with her partner, probably at the swearing he had ultimately given into.

'It's an old tradition. We always prank our bosses.'

'Well I'm not very amused by it.'

'Clearly. We wanted to see how you'd react.'

'Well, now you know you won't do it again because when I'm angry I have a tendency to shout abuse at people, right? And trust me, you wouldn't want to experience it.'

'Why are you a bloody boss then? You're surrounding yourself with people that like to have a laugh every so often.'

'This isn't a laugh, because I'm not laughing.'

'Yeah, but everyone else is.' Rose said.

'I didn't expect this from any of you. It's silly and childish and not for the workplace. No more pranks on anyone, or you will lose your job.'

'That's a bit harsh isn't it? It's your first day and you're already making threats to your colleagues.'

'I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't done it, would I?'

Clara stared at him, right into his eyes. He almost felt under pressure from it, her eyes weighting down his own. She seemed like a very influencing women, someone that was stubborn to the point of control freak.

'You can get back to work now.' He said, turning back to his computer. As they walked out he heard Clara mutter the word 'dickhead' and sighed. He had imagined his first day a little more cheerful than this, but at least he had shown them he really was a man not to be messed with and that he wouldn't be such an easy person to push over.


	2. Chapter 2

thank you for the kind reviews, it's one of the things I have missed about writing fic. Would just like to Point out that I made a tiny mistake in Ch1, Amy pond is not actually a work person at the company, that was supposed to be edited out of the first draft but I must have missed it. Instead it was replaced with Steven because it was Moffat appreciation week when I wrote it and he deserves a little recognition for creating the characters of 12 and Clara,mane obviously our wonderful ship Whouffaldi :)

 **Chapter 2**

Clara had resumed her work with a frustrated satisfaction. She wondered what had affected him so badly he had to act out so furiously. It was only a little fun, a word she was sure he didn't understand. When she passed by his office she could just about glimpse him through the blinds, his feet propped up on the desk, eating a chocolate bar. He was an arrogant bastard but still Clara couldn't help but like him. Whatever he was doing, even when he was admonishing her for the post it prank there was something of an edge to his voice, even the way he had sworn at them and his aggressiveness hadn't necessarily made her angry but mostly confused by her own perception of him. He was hard to decide on, whether he really was a horrible boss or if he was just tetchy, trying to impress on his first day. She had to admit she felt an element of reluctance letting him down but she wasn't going to abandon her traditions, however silly they really were. Just because he had arrived she herself wasn't going to change. He would just have to get used to this place and its people. She grabbed her coat and was about to walk out when she heard his voice shout inside his office, and when she peered through the blinds again, this time he wasn't laid back and eating chocolate, but talking on the phone and looking agitated. She could faintly hear his words, which were coming out in frustration. Whatever it was, it was firing him up. Clara had guessed from the beginning on his quick temper but had no idea he was so...electric. Wire him up and he would spark. Clara stared for a moment longer until her curiosity got the better of her and she pressed her ear against the door.

'Yeah, I'm not sure about this. I didn't think it would be so lousy here.'

She raised her eyebrows, leaning further with interest to hear more.

'It's not even the job, it's just-' he sighed, 'yeah, yeah I know I shouldn't strain myself. Point is, it's not going to be easy this time.'

A long while he was silent until he spoke up again. 'Look, I need the money, we all know that. This was the only solution.'

The conversation finally died down when he hung up the phone. She peeked through the blinds once more, seeing his hands rub his face exasperatedly and then his eyes to focus straight ahead of him. Which was exactly where she was positioned. His eyes met hers, and she ducked down ridiculously as if he hadn't seen her at all. He came out of his office and looked down to where she was still crouching, and Clara wished that she was anywhere but in this situation. Damn, she was so awkward.

'What are you doing?'

'Nothing. Just, uhm, on my way out.'

As she rose she looked again into his eyes. Something about them seemed to melt her to the ground.

'What's the matter?' He asked.

Fazed, she quickly snapped out of her reverie and focused on him again. She was partially concious of the fact they were completely alone, as everyone had already left.

'Nothing. Nothing at all.' She walked past him, unsure of how to describe what she was feeling. His words made her head spin with all kinds of meaning. She was also mostly convinced that he had obviously been referring to her prank when he mentioned his doubts of the job over the phone, which only made her feel uneasy. But something about his anger had caused some sort of a thrill inside her that wouldn't stay quiet. So she knew exactly what to do; she decided, selfishly, to keep playing along and observe how he handled it.

The next day he was observed from thou tide of his office, as was becoming usual. Peering through the blinds once again she smiled sarcastically at him, and in response he swivelled his chair round so she could no longer see his face. Clara stared for a minute, knowing that there was some sort of smug smile toying on his lips even though she couldn't see it.

When she retreated to her desk and attended to a few emails an idea struck her. She dialled up a number on the telephone next to her desk, biting her lip while it rung. Finally it picked up.

'John Smith, hello?'

Even his voice nearly creased her up just by the way he sounded, his deep and brooding Scottish accent provoking her laughter.

'Hi, it's Clara. Thought you might want to know about the paper presses down in the warehouses, they're jammed.'

'And am I supposed to be responsible for that kind of thing?' He asked.

She couldn't suppress a grin. 'You're the manager of the company. You tell me.'

He sighed. 'Fine, well what am I supposed to do? Help them?'

'Price up expenses for repair or replacement. Your welcome.' She hung up the phone, satisfied with herself indefinitely, turning round to see him smack his hand against his forehead and rise sharply from his seat. Unlocking his door and stepping out he wore a grimace and glanced for a second in her general area before walking away down the corridor to the lift. Clara couldn't help but lean backward precariously on her chair to sneak a look at his clothing, giggling to herself. He wore tight plaid trousers today, with a casual hoodie and his ridiculous frock coat thrown over it. Rose caught her looking, raising her eyebrows at her. She threw her hands up in a 'what can you do?' gesture and carried on working. Five minutes later she heard heavy footsteps and an aggravated voice edging closer and Clara tried as hard as she could not to turn around. And she was glad she did.

'You know, it's funny, all the paper presses seemed to be working fine. Maybe you have a generally false complaint or just created another laugh at an idiot trying to do his already over-complicated job.'

He had appeared right behind her, his face just inches from her own and it took all her willpower to try keep staring at the computer screen in front of her. She could even feel his body pressed up against her chair and her breaths caught in her throat as his mouth was only centimetres away from her ear. Oh, she really was enjoying this game.

'You've been here two days, sir. I'm sure there will be an overload of false complaints.'

He huffed audibly, withdrawing and stomping back into his office where the door slammed shut, muttering what sounded like a small string of curse words. Clara had to take a moment to catch her breath and her eyes had unknowingly closed while he had been so near. She opened them to see practically the whole office looking at her.

'Are you planning on giving him hell or was that really how he reacted to a false complaint?' Jack asked out of the blue.

'You know what Jack? I'm guessing a bit of both.' She smiled, resuming to her keyboard typing and exhaling heavily. When lunch came around John purposefully left the office for an hour, giving Clara time to respond to the many questions she had been currently subjected to.

'Are you going to start really winding him up?' River had asked.

Clara hesitated a moment, then nodded. For some unbeknownst reason, she wanted to catch his attention and annoy him, which she knew was harsh and a bitch move toward her new boss but the feeling of frustrating him gave her more pleasure than she cared to admit. It wasn't even him in general. Her overall mischievous nature played a part in this somewhere.

'Do you like him?' Rose sidled up to her when she had finally gotten away from everyone.

She sipped her tea thoughtfully. 'I don't know. Enough to make jokes on him, I guess.'

'Yes, but there must be a reason,' she nudged her encouragingly, 'I've seen the looks you've thrown at him. Do you like him?'

Clara was surprised by her question, so early on in her opinions of him. She wasn't really sure on how to respond to it, either.

'If you mean looks-wise, I-' she spluttered, 'I don't know. He's certainly very...unusual and, and different.'

'And older.' Rose cut in, cocking her eyebrows in a way that made Clara just a tiny bit uncomfortable. 'That's always been your kinda type, hasn't it?'

'Well, I'm not sure. I've had crushes. But I'm totally not for the 'sleeping with your boss' type.'

'What about liking him as a person, then?'

'His fashion taste is a bit extreme. And he's certainly very grumpy and sweary, as you observed from the prank yesterday. Look, why are you even asking me all this?' She laughed, confused as to what her friend was trying to get at. There was no special connection between them, certainly not a special relationship and she felt like she was being accused for liking a man she hardly knew.

'Just wondering what you thought of him, and why exactly you're planning on winding him up everyday.'

'Hey, it's not like I'm going to do it everyday. It's only been two jokes.' She defended.

'But you're Clara Oswald and I know that there's gonna be a lot more in store for him than what he's hoping for. I almost feel sorry for him.'

She laughed again. 'Yeah. Just so you know though, I'm not doing this because I, you know, like him in any way, I just find it funny teasing him.'

'Whatever you say.' Rose accepted, drinking from her mug. Clara knew she'd let it go but that she still wouldn't be fully convinced. At least she knew herself that there wouldn't be anything with him at all.

John skipped through the paperwork easily, marking down whatever was necessary, strictly keeping track of the time left. Four more hours to go. He had never dreaded a workplace so much, especially to make him want to go home. He had always been dedicated to work, but this time he was in a mess unfixable and he needed extra money. He had to keep reminding himself that he needed this work, but from what he saw so far it was the most shallow company ever with the worst colleagues he'd ever worked with. Especially the Clara girl. He even surprised himself by how much she already irritated him, and he hadn't even survived a week yet. Along with his sister's persistent calls he could hardly manage peace; even now out there, he could hear them talking, across desks and shelves and distracting him from his own work. It continued for another five minutes and John was starting to struggle to even read the words on the pages. Someone suddenly laughed loudly beyond his office, making him jump and his pen to ruin most of what had been detailed analysis, not to mention spilling his coffee all over the desk and on his new trousers.

'Shit.' He stared frustratedly at the mess he'd made, and his head turned towards the door with which conversations were still being yelled across the room. Wiping quickly the ink stains from his paperwork he decided to put them all in order. And if that made him an arrogant, despicable, grumpy boss then so be it.

'Hey!' He shouted, catching everyone's attention. His eyebrows were knitted together tightly and his eyes swept the room like a predator observing prey.

'Get the fuck back to work, right?!' He said, still watching as they all gaped up at him, 'this is a workplace, not a playground. You're yelling at each other and laughing too loudly for me to hear my own bloody thoughts, and distracting yourselves from work too. You're here for a fucking reason, yes?' He paused, slightly pleased with how some people were following his question and nodding along with him, shocked by the use of such violent language.

'You get paid for a reason, yes?' He asked more forcefully.

Again, most of them nodded shamefully.

'Then fucking act like it.' He said, searching the room once more, starting to retreat back to his now silent office when of course, someone had to notice the mishap he had made and that that someone had to have been the one person most infuriating in the entire world.

'Uhm, excuse me, John, but what is that on your trousers?'

He literally heard the craning of necks of everyone looking up at him again, and as he slowly turned around to face Clara her smirk was the only thing stopping her from laughing. When he gave no answer she started to giggle and raise her eyebrows, looking deliberately down to his crotch that he himself could feel was damp.

'If you must know, it was coffee, and I spilled it because someone started laughing instead of working, and it therefore made me jump. Alright?' He questioned aggressively, exhaling in vexation as he realised it had been - surprise surprise - Clara who had laughed and ruined his desk and his trousers. She gave him a sweeping look from head to toe before she turned back to her computer and started typing.

'Whatever you say.'

He was trying not to get worked up with how sickeningly aggravating she was. He didn't even know how he already despised her that much after only two days of working in the same building. She must have set a new record for herself.

He was finally able to return to the privacy of his office and start the search for something to wipe the coffee in, without the continuous noise outside the room. Yet when no such provision appeared in his office, he was forced to walk back out there, still self consciously noting the state of his trousers and asking for a cloth. He felt humiliated with himself for admonishing every single one of them while he himself remained so helpless still.

'Oh, I know where they are.' A voice piped up, the brunette bouncing up from her seat to walk to the kitchen, which incensed him further as she revealed one and winked at him as she went by. Further teasing and joking, it seemed. Did she ever listen?

'I might as well just do it as I caused you all this mess, hm?' Clara said, following him into his office.

'Hey, I did not give you authorisation to come in here, did I?'

'Well if I hadn't you'd have probably needed help with wiping your desk too, wouldn't you?'

He stared venomously at her as she leaned across and wiped the sopping wet desk, pushing all his paperwork to the floor. He crouched down to gather them all up, still swearing at her when he resurfaced.

'These are important fucking documents!' He hissed.

'Yeah, documents with ink and coffee stains on them.'

'What is your problem?'

'What do you mean?'

'All these silly jokes, they may be hilarious for you but as someone very new to this place I don't appreciate it.'

'Seems to me you don't appreciate anything.' She fired back.

'You don't know me at all. I am your boss, you are my colleague, and yet you lack a professionalism that most people would already have kicked you out for.'

'Go on, then, kick me out.' She said, facing him suddenly. Under the burn of her gaze he could hardly say anything else.

Once the desk was shiny again Clara smiled that audacious smirk and stared down at his own stain problem.

'Do you want me to wipe your trousers for you too?' She asked. He could tell his face was already transforming into an uncomfortable disposition as the cloth came closer and he swatted her hand away.

'Look, I think you're done now so why don't you put down the bloody rag, start to actually do your own work and leave me alone!'

'Fine.' She replied, dropping the cloth on the floor but making no attempts to leave just yet. As she advanced closer he was almost tempted to drag her from his office.

'You know, don't think you're the tough boss everyone hates, okay? I've worked plenty under them and they seem to actually make an impact. All you do is embarrass yourself. Do yourself a favour and don't be as hard as your cock, alright?' She said, her hand unintentionally reaching out to grab his crotch and squeezing hard enough to cause a reaction. He had at least successfully tried to keep his eyes open and on her as a burning flare of arousal shot through his body at her contact and then retreated as fast as it arose when her hand, and the rest of her, were gone from his office. He slumped against the wall, ultimately able of closing his eyes and still feeling the traces of her touch through his body. No one had touched him like that for years. In fact, he couldn't even give a name or a place. But he knew that from all his years' experience being touched in a work office was a new one to add to the list. He stood there for a few moments until he could feel no more rioting pleasures in his body no longer and quietly sat down in his chair. He was surprised to even find out he was still susceptible to being touched; he had long since forgotten how it had felt to be handled in such a way. What was more, he was starting to realise just what she'd done, where she'd done it, and how old she must be. Anyone could have seen it through the blinds if they had been looking, although thankfully for him he couldn't hear much more laughing out there now. If anyone really had seen it he doubted the age difference between them would have been taken lightly. He mostly in truth was shocked at how dominating she was in those few seconds and the courage it must have taken. Maybe, like she said, she had worked under tougher bosses. He quickly peeked through his blinds to the work stations, breathing a sigh of relief in the normality of the room. He caught sight of Clara again, typing away on her keyboard and appearing no fazed than she had been before she'd gone and grabbed his cock. He didn't know whether to be amazed or still angry at her. If anything, she had sent a myriad of mixed emotions into his head that he now profusely couldn't get rid of.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Clara had decided that despite his protests she would continue to annoy him further with her jokes, because she truthfully loved how helpless it made him. Even though Rose had advised her not to she had assured her friend he wouldn't take it out on any other except her, she was sure of it. She was also sure that no one could get in the way of spoiling her fun. Jack had already offered his willing assistance in the operation of her pranks and as she spun round boredly in her chair she tried to come up with another prank to play on him. She seemed to have caused quite the impression on him already however, with what she had dome yesterday. She could hardly remember thinking about it, just went with the impulse of her actions. In any matter he was shy of making eye contact with her now. The thought brought an evil smile to her face. Finally her wishes were answered when he stepped out of his office and made an announcement.

'I need to talk over a few of the things on the agenda with the head of each department in here, if that's okay. It'll just be five/ten minutes and then you can get back to work.'

Clara raised her eyebrows and walked up to him.

'What are you doing here?'

'You asked for me, didn't you? I'm the head of the services team. Lucky you.'

He looked pained to see her there, miserable even. Clara had to admit the effect she had on him was comical to watch. There were around ten of them and together they cosily filled the meeting room and sat there round the table. John couldn't get away from her, or from looking into her face as she chose the seat opposite him. Even then his eyes seemed to avert from her uncomfortably and she could only imagine what he was thinking of right now. What he was actually talking about however was partially lost on her. She knew about all the technical stuff and supplier demands anyway, so she focused all her energy on studying him and thinking about new joke ideas. Whatever he was saying he seemed quick to pick up on the fact that she wasn't cooperating and asked her question upon question that gave her her fair share of embarrassment. She had to admit, it wasn't a bad comeback but certainly not good enough. she could see him slowly become more relaxed and pleased as she grew more and more tired of his persistence and smirked when she landed a small kick to his shin across the table. His eyes seemed to dilate and focus on her with a murderous expression while she smiled innocently at him.

'Are you okay there?' She asked politely.

'Fine.' He muttered back.

He no longer made attempts to distract her with his silly questions and in that time she had successfully managed to come up with an idea. One that would really make his pupils dilate for sure. But apparently, someone was already making him agitated. Clara watched on in pleasure as he began to become a lot more worked up. She didn't even know what they were talking about but suddenly they were both shouting at each other and Clara was almost applauding the guy challenging him. She was sure his name was Danny, someone she'd seen around often enough and a supposed ladykiller. He seemed perfect for someone like her.

'You're not working hard enough! At this rate you're not going to make shit for all the effort you've put in.'

'Well, it's surprising that as soon as a new boss comes along, oh look there goes our future plans for distribution. Well done, sir.' Danny mocked.

'Don't fucking salute at me.' John said, his voice almost deadly. The whole room was cloaked in tension as they all looked up to his face flaming with anger at Danny.

'This is the point I'm trying to make,' he said, his breaths seeming to come short and heavy with each word he spoke, 'what have you twats done about it then? Prove that you're not just another fucking idiot.'

Even she had to admit that was quite the ferocious attack on his part and for Danny it only made him shake his head at him.

'You're not going anywhere with this company.' Danny spat, walking out the door. Everyone turned to look at John, and in unison got up and walked out too, leaving him alone. Although Clara had walked out with the rest of them she hung by the door a bit and watched alarmingly as he started coughing. Coughing so ferociously he doubled over. They sounded breathy and louder than average, which also seemed to strain him a lot. Clara hoped for his sake it was just the after effects of all his voluminous shouting but with every shaking cough and wheeze he took she wasn't so sure. When he straightened up she could see his eyes were watering and his face was a crimson red. She moved out the way before he could see her fully and he managed to quieten his coughing a bit before he strode out of the room. She nervously followed behind him and just as she got to her desk the door of his office slammed as hard as it could have been shut, resounding through the whole office. Everyone muttered to each other about his utter lack of respect and rudeness. Rose in turn slid up to her and asked what had happened, and after Clara had told her she frowned at the closed door he was hiding behind.

'I never thought-'

'I know.' She dismissed. The strange feeling she felt wasn't quite the shock everyone else possessed, but almost an empathy for him. She didn't know if it was the pressure upon his shoulders she certainly would have added to or his violent coughing that had caused such a sudden change of emotion. She even abandoned the plans of her new prank from her mind, as anymore and he would probably burst.

'Well, he did seem quite...formidable from the start, didn't he?'

Clara decided to ignore her as she focused all her attention on the door. Something must be going on with him, she thought. Something much bigger than the stresses of work and her ridiculous difficulties. As she heard her colleagues chatter on about his behaviour she turned to her various open documented information tables and started to type.

A few hours must have passed and no one had seen John at all during that time, having not resurfaced from the secure confinements of his office. Yet eventually the door opened and he stepped out, looking healthier at least than he had while coughing and certainly much more calm than his earlier shouting spree.

'If I could just have your attention, everybody,' he cleared his throat, his eyes sunken but not, Clara noticed, with a great amount of remorse. Chairs swivelled round and stony faces loomed up at him disdainfully. He took a moment before speaking. 'I would just like to give my sincere apologies to all and especially to the head of departments that witnessed my horrible anger and crude language. It was uncalled for and I realise what a mess I've made already at this job. I'm trying to cope with a lot of different things all at once at the moment so please excuse my impatience and vulgarity. I don't mean any offence or harm to anyone I am addressing. Hopefully we can all forget it happened and move on, because it would be a shame if we didn't all cooperate together from here on in.' He inclined his head to all his watchers, giving an awkward smile and returning just as awkwardly back into his office. No one could deny the effort he'd made to genuinely apologise and most just symbolised this with a shrug. Some were still angry, from what she could see of Danny he was still talking about it with others around his desk. She wondered if anything particularly good or bad would come of speaking to him. Perhaps to plan an avenging joke for the next day or just to scold him for still dragging the whole situation out. Clara knew the managing business was a hard one, and even harder when your colleagues didn't like you.

All of a sudden the door opened again and this time he emerged a lot more irritated than before.

'Could I have a word with you, Clara?'

Her mouth stuttered, finally muttering a 'sure' and wondering just what it could be about. Maybe it was about her eavesdropping on his coughing fit. Or maybe even yesterday's events. She smirked when she thought just how satisfying it would be to hear him go on about the inappropriateness of intimate touching in the workplace. Yet by the look on his face now she could bet a thousand pounds that was not why he wanted to talk to her.

She noticed how darkened the room was, his computer shut off like the lights. She wondered how many hours he'd been sitting in the dark with nothing but his thoughts.

'Are you going to tell me, then?'

'Clara, you already know what it is. I'm already sick of your stupid games and pranks-'

'Woah, slow down there eyebrows, what are you talking about? I haven't pranked you at all today.'

'Stop fucking lying. I found this,' he picked up a klaxon horn, staring at her like she'd just committed a murder. 'It was taped to my chair. Someone must have crept in there while I was talking to everyone outside. Nearly scared the shit out of me, which nearly spilled my coffee, and nearly ruined my paperwork again. This isn't funny anymore, okay? Just stop with this.'

'I didn't do it!'

He snorted. 'Yeah, like I'm going to believe that.'

'I swear, I didn't this time. It could have been anyone.'

'I don't care for your pathetic excuses. I'm not having a good day, or a good week, and I don't need you threatening me with your bold actions and cheap sense of humour.'

'Wow. And to think for a second there, I felt the tiniest bit sorry for you. You really are an insufferable asshole, aren't you? That can't keep his mouth shut for five minutes and when he does its only in foul language.' She accused, standing up instantly. She knew better now than to pity John Smith, and her fresh anger only caused her to muse on a wider range of jokes to play on him. Oh yes, now he had really gotten on her nerves there would be nothing stopping her now from playing prank after prank on him, and she hoped he knew that.

She stormed out the room, leaving him alone in the dismal dark with his dismal thoughts once again.

A week on and John after the perpetuous torment he was going through, would have already given up, which was saying something as when it specifically came to work he was not a quitter. But everyone here made him want to. Pushed him to, almost. He could hardly do anything without someone making his life a living hell, could hardly even breathe or do his job properly. Clara, ever since the klaxon horn incident wasn't wasting any time in pranking him openly, not needing a disguise any longer. And shamefully, he'd put up with it. The whole situation had become regular and by now he had gotten used to seeing all his keyboard keys switched up and his stationery taped together. He knew he shouldn't tolerate any of these things but as a boss he was mentally bloated at the thought of another meaningless reprimand. At least he could still control the room as of when he wanted to, which really was his only form of dominance he could think of. He knew that younger and much stricter John would have screamed senseless at the idea of himself completely at a loss with no effective leadership. Every single one of his previous managing jobs had climbed successfully to the point of a growing company and a well-bonded team, but now for the first time he was out of his depth and not motivated to change any aspect of the company's and the colleague's relationship with him. That was what made him generally sad about coming into work every morning. He was no longer dedicated to making this business great. Now, work was just work. Staring at his computer blankly he decided with nothing better to do he might as well call his sister, Missy, to talk her out of making him work at this place anymore, despite how much it provided for the bills.

'John! What a pleasant and predictable surprise!' She mocked him, in that high pitched voice of hers that could give an opera singer a run for her money, 'what is it?' She asked sharply. John couldn't help but smile slightly at her alternating moods as he fiddled with the casing of the connection wire.

'Missy, it's dead here. I can't work in a place where other people aren't willing to do so. So far it's been nine pranks and counting and the team,' he whispered, lowering his voice just in case, 'are a bunch of the most boring fuckers I've ever had the misfortune to work with.'

'John, you're a man. Why don't you square up and act like it. They're only people and last time I checked, not as versatile as they seem, okay? You're a big boy that has to pay those ghastly bills but you can't help that.'

He sighed. 'I wouldn't even be here right now if I hadn't-'

'I know, and as your big sis I'm trying just as hard as you are to provide,' she interjected, 'I'm at work right now too John, trying my hardest. Hold out for a few months, will you?'

'Missy, I'll probably die sooner than that.'

A small silence ensued before she spoke up again. 'Well get working to keep your mind off the unpleasantness, then. It's the only way.'

'You don't understand, there's a woman called Clara that dedicates herself to literally making my life an abhorrent torture, okay?'

'Another woman dominating you, hey? You seriously need to get out more, little brother.' He made a face at the childish use of the sibling term. He was no longer little and he was too much of a twat to give himself the decency of the title 'brother'.

'You're not suggesting I try find someone now, in my time of life?'

'All I'm saying is that this job pays you well and you're not going to come by that again anytime soon. So I suggest you try to get on with these insanely dull humans and become the leader you once were.'

'It's been years, Missy, not months. Years.' And with that he put the phone down, deliberating on her words and staring once again at the blank, darkened walls. Suddenly a message popped up on his computer screen, alerting him from his daydreams and making him remember about the meeting he'd set for that afternoon. Another boring meeting with more boring business people striking deals and wanting the company to merge with others. He was going to go crazy by the end of the month, he knew it. Stealing a few more minutes to himself, he finally got out of his seat and opened the door, making his way to the reception area and shaking the hands of people he really couldn't be bothered to listen to right then. But of course, he was stuck in this job. Until the end of his days, most likely.

'So,' one of the men started, shaking his hand as he sat down, 'how are you settling down here?'

John tried for the most part to cover the grimace he was automatically making, settling instead for a bemused smirk.

'Not too badly, thanks.' He lied. He just hoped this meeting would prove useful for him rather than dull.

'Right, well first of all we have to assess the changes being made with your arrival. I hope you read the e-mail?'

John panicked slightly at the mention of it, casting his mind back as far as it would go.

'Ah yes, I remember.'

'Good. Are you aware of the situation arising?'

'Arising where?'

'The two branches here and Manchester. The books have been distributed as far as Eastern Europe and this branch doesn't seem to be fulfilling its weekly rate of produce and distribution. We are quite worried about it, and we're sincerely sorry for putting all of this on your shoulders. I suppose you weren't told exactly why the last manager left the job?'

John was dumbfounded. He had walked straight into a trap of stress and crisis, not bothering to question the company's success before he took it. He felt so stupid, thinking back to the interview. They had jumped on him completely, and now he knew why.

'The last one caused this and couldn't find a way to solve it. The pressure had soon started to effect him and he buckled under the weight of responsibility. In the end he resigned and handed the baton over to you.'

'Well I was never under the impression that the company wasn't doing well-'

'We suggest reining in the team a bit. Get them working harder. Make weekly checks on the warehouses and the rate of books being distributed and make necessary redundancies. We'll return in the next three months to record your progress.' With that the man folded up his briefing book and shook John's hand once more.

'Again, I'm sorry about all of this mess we've put you in. You can to decide to precede with these things or it will be a simple matter of merging with the Manchester branch. Your decision, though, so think it through and put in a course of action. We'd like to know by the end of the week.'

He hid his snarl with a forced grin and lead them out of the meeting room. As soon as they were gone he allowed himself to curse loudly and deeply regret what he had done. Now all of the pressure he had wished to escape from had only built, and he was infuriated that they had left him this without explaining before he applied for the job.

And now he had to act: become even more of a cruel boss and make his staff redundant, or merge with the Manchester branch. He didn't want to choose any option. He couldn't. He would have to sleep on it. He exhaled a breathy sigh and fell backward into his chair with exasperation. There was no way he wanted his independent company working with another. He had too much pride and history that he couldn't help but prevent that. And he certainly wasn't going to move to Manchester for it. But he didn't want to fire anyone, even though he could pick the ones most annoying to him. And he didn't particularly care if that was immoral. He deliberated thoughtfully, wondering if it mattered if he decided to become even stricter. He was hated anyway, all he could do really was improve it. There was no way he saw himself working out his issues with his staff. Taking another breath, he opened his door to see everyone more or less working satisfactorily, which was already an improvement from that morning. He coughed, alerting everyone of his announcement. Chairs swivelled round to look up at him, and he began.

'I have news and two courses of action I will have to decide and act upon after this meeting. I'm not sure you are aware but in case you're not, this company, this particular branch, is underperforming. The standard amount of books aren't being distributed and it's hurting the money invested. We all, as a team, need to work harder. I'll now be making weekly checks on all of your progress and in the warehouses. This will have to result in some salary cuts and job losses. Trust me, I don't want to do any of this, it wasn't my decision but if we get our work up to scratch, and even over performing, redundancies don't have to be that major.'

A bout of silence, and then shouting. A whole chorus, everyone complaining and yelling and pointing their fingers at him. He sighed, turning his back and walking toward the lift to inform the warehouse workers.

Yet he hadn't even reached the lift when a surge of people surrounded him with questions and accusations.

'Look, I'm sorry, but that's just the way it's gotta be.' He said, his voice rising above all others and resisting the temptation of cursing. He shoved past the crowd into the elevator, pressing the button before anyone could get in. Or so he thought. At the very front of the crowd someone had been able to slip in with him. And when he looked to his left, a grimace appeared on his face because Clara was standing beside him.

'I've made myself very clear that this isn't my fault.' He said, before she could start arguing with him.

'Whose going to be made redundant?'

'I'm not sure yet.'

'Do you explicitly make the decisions?'

'Yes. Based on work progress, expertise in the area and behaviour.' He eyed her meaningfully when he said 'behaviour'. She seemed to swallow deeply and then address him.

'It can't be me.' She said. Clara didn't look at him but he did at her, his eyebrows raised. Who was she to tell him who he could and could not fire? Of all people, she should know she would be at the very top of the hit list.

'Why?' He interrogated sharply.

She took a deep breath before answering. 'Because I need the money.'

He was sure his eyebrows were going to recede into his hairline. It was the exact same response he would have given in that circumstance. For what, though, he didn't know.

'Why?'

'Because I'm trying to pay back all of my debts.' She hung her head in shame. For the first time he saw her look just the tiniest bit vulnerable, ashamed of her actions.

'Me too.' He said, and her head turned to look at him. For a moment they both looked at each other. For some reason he was fed to give her a reassuring smile but refrained. She had driven him crazy for the last few weeks and hardly deserved it.

'Do you seriously expect me to keep you on after all you've done?' He asked, probably a little more harshly than he intended.

'Why don't you just break the rules?'

'That's a lot easier said than done.' He said grimly.

'Well, maybe if we do all work harder there won't have to be any job losses.'

'I can't guarantee that.'

'Why can't you just protect the team?'

'Do you see them looking out for me? Wanting to decrease the pressure from my job? I don't think so.' He snapped sharply.

'Well, what's the consequences?' She asked, her tone just as sharp as his.

The elevator doors opened and he stepped out, Clara following him.

She repeated the question, and she finally grew on his nerves again.

He turned round to her abruptly, her face shocked at his unexpectedness and told her outright. 'Or we'll all have to up and move to Manchester and merge with their branch. Got it?'

His face was so close to hers he could feel her breath on his. His face was still looming above and probably looking very angry and fed up. He turned away and left her there. For once, she didn't follow him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

She was nearly falling asleep, her hands slipping from her mouse and her head nearly falling onto the keyboard. Everyone had felt that way for the past couple of days, with enforcements from John Smith to work overtime. She glanced at the clock overhead, just about glimpsing the time. Roughly an hour later than she was used to working. A lot of people were still grumbling, moaning about extra hours. To be fair, she didn't want for lose her job nor move to the Manchester branch, so she did what she had to, even if she knew this was her own partial doing. They would all have to work this hard for a long time. She felt just a little bit sorry for him, having to juggle so much work with clearly another problem on his mind. For one thing, their common problem of repaying debts had surprised her; she had thought John too organised to get himself wound up in debt. Maybe they were more similar than they thought but she knew John could still be a pain in the ass. Talking about getting on her nerves, he managed to appear just at that second, carrying a clipboard and assessing everyone's progress, going round every desk and every table until he finally got to her.

'Looking a bit slow, Clara.' He said, whether to tease her or not she didn't know. 'You can stay to finish this task before you go home, but tomorrow you will have to meet your target or more hours will be put on top of your shift. Got that?'

She nodded dryly, not even having the energy to fight back. That was the thing with him. As soon as she started thinking of him in a positive light he had to come along and dampen it with his negativity.

She glimpsed Jack, talking animatedly on the phone to his boyfriend, which she was very surprised he got away with. Clara decided she needed a little bit of fun before the end of the day so she could leave in good spirits.

She nudged him tentatively. His eyes followed her, mouthing 'what?'

'Let's go wind him up.' She whispered, her eyes lighting up. The corner of Jack's lip curled up mischievously.

'Well, it is pretty damn boring right now. I could use a laugh.'

Clara grinned in exultance, and Jack hung up the phone with 'I'm now about to annoy my boss. I'll see you later, Ianto,' before they both huddled near each other to brainstorm ideas. Clara had forgotten all about feeling sorry for him and brimming with the possibility of making him mad. He deserved it, for being a miserable, grumpy fucker.

Finally they came up with a plan, one that she was sure would make him furious. It was perfect, a joke she had used to play on her neighbours when she was younger. Jack agreed enthusiastically, and with his phone he dialled the number of a local pizzeria. Clara wrote everything down as he talked, and she was laughing so much she thought she would instantly give the game away.

'Hello,' Jack spoke into the phone, taking on a Scottish accent that instantly folded Clara into irrepressible giggles, 'I would like to order-' he glanced over at Clara's handwritten note, 'two dozen pizzas.' Jack couldn't help but snigger.

'Yes? Oh, it's for a party. What toppings would we like...'

Clara scribbled down on the paper, and his eyes followed as he spoke, consequently trilling off each topping, a huge grin in place.

'Yes, that's four ham and pineapple, seven meat feast, ten margarita and three vegetable.'

There was a pause as the person on the other side of the phone comprehended the order.

'Name?' She heard the phone say.

'John Smith.' Jack said, his Scottish accent actually quite impressive. Clara wrote down the address of the company and Jack soon after hung up the phone.

'They're going to be here in half an hour.' He told her, immediately bursting into laughter, as Clara did simultaneously. Rose and Donna had then noticed, and Clara explained to them as precisely as she could, her giggles throwing off each word.

'We're, we're-ordering p-we're ordering pizza's under John's name.'

Rose exclaimed in joy, giving Clara a high five.

'How many?' Donna asked incredulously.

'24.'

'Jesus!' She said, 'he's going to be so angry.'

They all looked round to where he was standing over Mickey, shouting at him for something. Mickey looked almost frightened.

Clara felt successful and determined to make him look like a fool.

Thereafter the minutes passed by, as they waited for the pizzas to arrive. Clara caught John's eye as he crossed toward his office, and he gave her a look of confusion at the knowingly malicious glint in her eyes. It wasn't long until there was a huge cart of pizza's rolling through the corridor, and a guy reading off a list for the person who had ordered them. Everyone turned to John's office. River was the first to move; she opened the door and told John his delivery was here.

'I didn't order anything.' He claimed, and Clara tried to keep a straight face as he emerged from the office and stared at the pizzas with shock.

'What the fuck?' He said. No one dared say anything.

'These pizzas were ordered for John Smith at this address.' The guy said. John just kept staring, until he erupted.

'I didn't order shit!' He accused, his eyes sweeping the whole room.

'Well, sir, is your name John Smith?' The guy deadpanned.

'Well, I- yes, but-' he spluttered.

'Then you are responsible for these pizzas, as you ordered them.'

Clara looked on satisfactorily, and turned to Jack with a hidden smile.

'I didn't fucking order any damn pizzas!' He exclaiemd, and everyone started to giggle just a little at him. 'Who ordered these pizzas?' He roared, his eyes blazing into each face for a possible culprit.

'It certainly sounds like you did over the phone, your accent is identical.'

'Listen, I didn't make any phone call of delivery for...' He quickly counted the number of pizza boxes, '24 fucking pizzas!' He sounded emphatically hysterical.

Clara was sure everyone was counting each curse word by then, and also looking just a bit wary now his tone had turned violently bitter.

'I'm sorry sir, but you have to pay for these pizzas now.'

'I'm not paying for something I didn't order!'

'Nonetheless, there was a phone call made approximately thirty minutes ago asking for twenty four pizzas to be delivered to this address. Regardless if you were the one to make the call, we sorted them out and have delivered them.'

John was looking dangerous now, his stare like knives cutting into everybody he set eyes upon.

'Fine, fucking fine. Someone has just wasted my fucking money!'

He furiously took out his wallet and handed them all he had, spare for a ten pound note.

'Keep the sodding change.' He spat, dismissing the guy and watching him hurry to the elevator.

'These will be confiscated, no one is to go near them AT ALL. I've just had to pay out of my own money, so these will be kept with me.'

'Why not pay out of the company's money?' Someone asked audaciously.

'Have you seen our fucking finance situation? We can't even afford to buy a packet of peanuts, understand?'

Everyone nodded their heads and he ranted off under his breath quite explicitly while he wheeled all the pizzas into his office. After the door had been shut behind him raucous laughter overcame the whole room and shouts of 'who did it?' And 'why didn't anyone pay so we could eat the pizzas' rang out and Clara smirked in pride. Jack could hardly contain himself as he replayed parts of John's dialogue with comical clarity and all the computers synchronously went to sleep. However she could only bask in her success for a few moments, as John re-emerged and his flaming eyes fixed on her. He motioned for her to step inside his office, and she looked back at her table, all mockingly raising their eyebrows at her.

As soon as she entered and the door had been closed behind her she suppressed the urge to laugh again at the amount of pizzas standing against his back wall.

'How fucking dare you do this.' He said, his breathing becoming heavy.

'What?! How can you blame me without evidence-,'

'I know it was fucking you alright?' He yelled, 'I'm not bloody blind and I'm certainly not stupid. Why the hell did you think it was acceptable to do this, waste not only everyone's time, but my own money. You're a fucking adult for God's sake, not a little child! I have never worked in a place where the people were so goddamn childish with idiotic pranks and silliness. This stops immediately.'

'That's funny, I swear last time you said that if I did it again you'd fire me. You're going back on your words. I guess it's true that threats don't work unless you deliver.'

'No, I'm not going to fire you, because your place in this company, believe it or not, is valued, which is fucking terrible news for me. Instead, I'm making you pay me back for all the pizzas, including ten pound compensation for your fucking impertinence!'

'I don't have the money.' She said plainly.

'I hardly do, either! You have no idea, no fucking idea how this has impacted me. You told me you were in debts yourself, which is what bloody confuses me. You know full well you can't waste money like this when you're in debt!'

Clara hadn't thought of that. Her head lowered just a fraction.

'Twenty pound extra,' he added, 'for all the excruciatingly annoying things you've done to me. All I'm trying to do is make this company run as smoothly as possible without any faults or unfortunate disadvantages. I'm just trying to make this better, and what does a fucking idiot like you do? Fuck it up!' He finished, his eyebrows knitting so tight she thought they would join into one.

He took a rather raggedly disturbing breath. Clara looked up in alarm. There was a significantly tense pause that allowed John's breathing to return to normal, then dissipate. He dismissed it and carried on.

'I want a full payment by tomorrow, no excuses.'

'And if not? You said yourself, you can't fire me.'

'No, but I can make it as hellish as I possibly can. Now, get out.'

Clara studied him carefully. 'You don't want an apology?'

'No I fucking do not, now leave!'

She turned away, carrying off a laugh but inside feeling just a little disappointed with herself. She wasn't doing it for attention, nor pride, and she wasn't even sure it was just to annoy him either anymore, but it was something she couldn't name. It frustrated her greatly.

When she peered into his office the next day the pizzas were magically gone from his wall. She only noticed the wary eye he had on her, watching her carefully as she obediently set to work. Clara had to admit to herself that what she had done last night was a little degrading, even if it had been hilarious at the time. Ultimately, she decided that she had had her fun now, and to enact any other devilish schemes would be far too dangerous. Clara had already paid him for last night, yet not without a rambling lecture, and she was positive she didn't want to go through that experience again. By the end of the day she was bored out of her mind, and she logged off gratefully, meeting John's eyes briefly as she brushed past him to collect her coat. When she did, however, she felt him turn round to look at her, his eyes boring into her back like he was watching her every move. He carried on talking to other people, and then with an exasperated sigh retreated back to his office. Looking round the drab room, with its people shuffling along like zombies and the boring colours of the walls making it seem like a prison cell, she made a decision. She'd be damned if she was going to stay at this dump. The work was alright pay but not worth what she was doing.

Heading straight into John's room she could see the visible strain on his face when he looked up to see it was her. She grimaced at him, realising once again just how awful he was. He didn't have any respect for anyone. She knew it was hard for him to possibly find the respect to treat her normally after what she'd put him through but the look on his face still disgusted her. Which drove her harshly to the point.

'I'm leaving.' She announced. He didn't react or look up at her.

'Yes, I told you you could go.'

'No. I'm leaving. Leaving this place, resigning.'

This time he did look up, his eyebrows raised on his head, producing creases in his forehead and his eyes a mocking shade of blue.

'And why on earth are you doing that?'

'Do you really have to question why?'

'Well, here's news for you: I want to leave too, I'd bloody love to leave, but I can't. Because I've got things that need paying for.'

'I decided I don't care.'

'What are you gonna do instead, then?'

'What business of it is yours?'

He raised an eyebrow.

'I don't know yet. Probably become a teacher.'

'Teaching?!' He snorted, 'the teacher ambition returns!' He shook his head disdainfully, 'let me give you some advice: this job pays nearly double than a normal teacher salary.'

'How would you know?'

'Clara, I've been in plenty of businesses, plenty of industries.'

'Why don't you start acting like it?'

'Like what?'

'Someone that's worked with different people all their lives. Seems to me you can't bear to confront anyone here.'

'I've never had a team so astonishingly uncooperative.' He said sharply, turning to his computer and pretending to type.

'Well, I'd rather suffer the loss of money then work in this dump a day longer with you here. I'll hand in a notice one of these days or other.' She said carelessly, turning away to walk out. But a hand grabbed her arm and spun her back around. John's hard gaze was burning into her soul once more, shocking her again with the intensity of his stare. All thoughts of rebellion and tough talk slipped out of her mind and she seemed to melt under his touch.

'Let go of me.' She managed, firmly enough.

He did as he was told, releasing his grip on her. 'Don't leave. Believe it or not, despite your stupid sense of humour and annoying questions you are one of the best on the team and don't make me repeat that.' He rambled.

She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest with satisfaction. 'What did you say?'

'I told you, I'm not repeating it again.' His eyes flicked down to her and then away again.

'And that's the only reason you want me to stay?'

'Yes.'

'Yeah well, I'd rather try my luck with some teenage kids than be stuck here with you.'

She attempted to turn away but he caught her arm again. This time she was amused and had a teasing glint in her eye.

'No, no, look. Okay, I'll raise your salary.'

'And why the hell would you do that?'

'Because this company needs you. This company needs all of you. I am a man of business, I can't bear being in charge of a company underperforming and capsizing from the weight of responsibility. I take over companies and make them better, but I can only do that if everyone's in. I promise to you now I could turn this company around but I just need effort. Even though you're exceptionally lax when it comes to spreadsheets, and your attitude is frankly demoralising, your service is excellent. Really, it's better than anyone's on your team.'

'But John, you're not seeing this for how it really is, what do I care about this company? It's just a job. Money that manages to get me through each day and month. I frankly don't give a shit if the company is underperforming. Why shouldn't I leave?

'Yes, but I do. I care, and I need you here. If you're gonna do it for anyone, do it for me.'

Her eyes went wide. 'Have you been drinking?'

'No.' He shook his head, Clara only just noticing how erratic he looked. His hair wild, his tie crooked, his jacket askew.

'Why are you suddenly desperate for me to stay after what I did last night? You hate me, I hate you. I'm basically helping you get rid of me.'

'Because you're the only person who actually understands, and as I said yesterday, you are valuable to this company. You're fucking childish and infuriating and yet you are the brightest one here. And you'll be surprised to know that I don't hate you.' He said, his voice incredibly small.

She reflected on his comment, acknowledging for the first time that she didn't hate him either, not really. He was a bit of a prick, there was no denying but there wasn't actually any emotion of hatred inside her, which she found shocking.

'You change your tune so fast I can't even keep up with you anymore.'

'At least you paid me back. And I think that you're not as insolent as you seem inside.'

Clara was amazed. Was this really John Smith talking to her? He was calm, gentle, and not shouting at her. It seemed extremely unnatural.

'Yeah well, you're freaking me out now so-'

'Wait.' He said, pointing a finger at her, 'wait, you're bloody joking with me here again. You can't bloody leave this job and go through teaching because you have all those debts you told me about. You need this job, you need the money.'

'I already have all the qualifications and I'll struggle by myself, thanks. At least I'd be doing something I love.'

He moved an inch closer. 'You told me on my very first day here that you wanted to be an English teacher.'

'Yes, that's, that's right, I did.'

'But just stay a few months more. By then I'll have the company in control and you can swan off to teach snotty kids their abc's.'

'How long?'

'Six months.'

'Extended pay?'

He sighed heavily.

'You were the one that offered.'

'Okay. 500.'

'700 and I'll do my work like a good girl.'

He squinted at her. 'Fine.' He agreed.

She smiled triumphantly. 'That's a deal.' She held out her hand for him to shake. Defeated, he did but not without a smirk of the same victory. The spark she felt when he had first arrived, that had drawn her to him so, flared up inside her chest again. She was looking at him as if it was the first day again, studying his features with interest.

'Don't think this changes anything. You're still a boring business guy with no dreams or aspirations.'

'Oi, that seems a little unfair. I wanted to be a doctor when I was younger.'

'Seriously?'

'Yep. In fact, I got my doctorate but didn't bother going anywhere with it in the end. Ended up as a manager of a corporate business by the age of 25 and it completely turned my life around. I mean, being a manager of a company at 25 was quite impressive for me.'

All hatred and impressions of him vanished in an instant and instead she was looking at a man doing the best he could, a human being just as flawed as she was. It was oddly comforting.

'So you're Doctor Smith?' She giggled.

'Yes, but don't tell anyone else.' He winked, 'as for being no fun, I think that's a little judgemental. Why don't I show you how fun I can be?' Clara tried to hide her astonishment.

'Oh god.'

'Look,' he said, leading her out of his room and into the central office. He slumped down instantly on one of the swivel chairs, spinning all around her. Clara felt bewildered at his sudden childish demeanour, laughing at him whizzing round the room. It was one of the bizarrest sights she'd beheld, a man with those eyebrows playing on chairs like a kid who had had too much sherbet.

'You're a fucking hypocrite! Childishness indeed!' Clara told him.

'Yes, well I don't act like this during the workday. I'm serious about the work and that's how you should be.'

She sniggered, watching him whizz round the office. She found it insanely strange that only a few minutes ago she hated him passionately but was now laughing with him.

'But I admittedly did used to do this all the time when no one was looking.' He said. As he spun past he gestured for her to join him and, unable to refuse she sank into an identical chair and spun round and round until she felt dizzy. When her eyes refocused she saw John sitting next to her and chuckling at her disoriented state. He pushed away from her and lined himself up against the door of his office and beckoned her over.

'I always used to organise the chair races for Red Nose Day.' He said.

'As long as you play fair.'

'Of course. Now, to the very back of the room, 3,2,1 GO!'

They both raced against each other with John shouting competitively while Clara marvelled at the man she had been having an argument with only moments ago that now was having swivel chair races with her. As it was he only just managed to get to the end of the room before her, and in her defence claimed it was because of his long legs.

'If you don't think that was fair, let's have a re-match then.' He said, mocking severity.

'Fine. 3,2,1...go.'

She pushed off as fast as she could, so focused on getting to the end she was colliding into desks and knocking papers off tables, but neither of them cared. Just as she was nearing he wall her chair bumped into John's and both of them nearly fell off them. Laughing profusely she finished off the race, still giggling at their collision. They couldn't help having another race, and another race, and Clara finally came to her conclusions that he wasn't actually too bad as a person. As a boss he wasn't all that warm, in fact he was stone cold, but now she was really enjoying his company. It was strange just how fast he had changed moods, but she was actually quite glad he had persuaded her to stay. She knew she would only have gone home in regret at being stupid enough to quit her job when she knew there wasn't really any chance of getting another.

After they were red in the face and breathless from racing John stood up, walked into his office and came back with a stack of paper. He sat down to make a paper aeroplane and whirl it through the air. It landed in between someone's keyboard and Clara turned to him in awe.

'You're not so different to the team than I thought. Why are you such a strict boss?'

'Not strict. Just very ambitious. I like to get on with my work without disturbance, and I like the team to be focused too. That's all. And then when I heard of the merger,' he sighed, 'it was all I could do not to enforce a few rules around here. Do you understand?'

She nodded. 'But why not just treat us all a little bit better? Don't shout, don't horrifically swear at people. Be a better person and people will like you.'

'Because I am put under stress and it creates a lot of problems personally for me when people get under my skin. I haven't felt that angry than I did at the pizza incident for a long time.'

A moments silence held until Clara was missing the excitable mood he had been in only seconds prior.

'Show me how to do them.' She prompted.

'You don't know how to do paper aeroplanes?' He asked incredulously.

'Unfortunately not.'

He showed her step by step how to make the planes, his hands sometimes taking over when she got confused by it. His fingers brushed hers and for a moment she didn't dare breathe until he had finished. When she had finally gotten the grasp of it there were paper aeroplanes flying around everywhere, equipment and walls littered with them, as the both of them tested one after the other how far and high they could go. One of John's even collided into the clock, dropping to the floor, but not before Clara had glimpsed the time and her brain suddenly went I to panic.

'Shit! It's nearly 8! I was supposed to be home an hour ago!'

'Really, why? Didn't you text your boyfriend or something?'

'No, no, I don't have a boyfriend. I promised Amy I'd be at her baby shower and it's only in half an hour and I still need to get home.' She gathered up her things in a hurrying , leaving John there flustered. He hurried after her, joining her at the lift, but she soon gave up waiting and raced down the stairs. When she ran to her motorcycle he raised his eyebrows again. She just kept on surprising him. Putting on her helmet and swinging her legs over it she started it up but the bike did nothing. In frustration, she tried it again, harder, and then again, until she cursed violently again and hopped off it.

'I'm out of gas. Fuck sake.' She breathed. He could sense her tenseness, her irritation, and it probably scared him more than himself. He had no doubt she could breathe fire I'm that moment. She stared at the vehicle like it might start working again and John suddenly thought of a good deed he could add to his list.

'I can drive you, if you want.' He offered, watching Clara's eyes turn on him.

'You would?' Clara felt like she had been hit by some miracle, or was in some very sarcastically distorted dream. This was another person altogether from the commandeering boss who hated everyone.

'Yeah, my car's just there,' he pointed to a back car parked across from the bike, the only one left.

'I can take you home, then take you to Amy's and while you're there I can come back here, pick up your motorbike somehow and park it outside her house for you when you come back.'

She stared up at him for a moment, until John started to feel just slightly uncomfortable.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah, I've got nothing else to do tonight.'

'Oh, you're a lifesaver John, thank you.' She said, and for a second he thought she was going to hug him, or even kiss him on the cheek, yet thankfully she didn't and walked straight past him towards his car.

As she strapped herself in and he turned the keys into the ignition he found her staring up at him again. He wished she would stop doing that, and didn't.

'Are you sure it's okay doing all of this? Don't want to disturb you.'

It was unnerving how suddenly polite she had become.

'No, trust me, it's fine. My nights usually consist of lying in front of the telly until I fall asleep. It doesn't help that Missy gives me an earache every night with her rambling too.'

'Do you live with her?'

'Yes and she's bananas, that woman. My sister,' he clarified, 'always has been barking up the wrong tree ever since she was born.

'Haven't you ever lived alone, or...'

He made a noise of reminiscence, some sort of happy memory because he was almost smiling. 'Once.'

She decided not to press him further about it but instead analysed her very bizarre situation. She was being driven home by her boss, the same one she had almost left along with her job over an hour ago. It seemed time really could change people.

'I did prove it though, didn't I?'

'Prove what?'

'That I can be fun sometimes. When I'm not working and there's better company around than Missy.'

'Yeah, I guess you did. That's not gonna help winning everyone else's approval though.'

'Well, you can't please everybody. And you've no idea how difficult managing can be sometimes.'

'Oh, I can. Missy must go to bed in pain every night managing you.'

'Funny.' He replied sarcastically, which seemed to make her laugh.

'It's just on the left.' She pointed, directing him toward a block of flats he was unfamiliar with.

Clara unbuckled herself to get out of the car but John, not quite knowing what to do, just sat there. She rounded the car, gesturing for him to follow her.

'You might as well come up.'

When they reached her flat John felt uncomfortable but also admirable of the mess and the shelves all stacked with photo frames and ornaments.

'You can just sit there. I won't be a minute.'

He gingerly sat down and waited patiently enough, trying to connect the dots of the last few hours. She had wanted to leave, to resign, but he'd stopped her. And then he had introduced her to a side of him he rarely showed anyone else, much less his colleagues. And now somehow he'd ended up here, in her very flat. He could hardly believe he was sitting there, especially after the pizza ordeal last night. He had thought she was the worlds worst colleague, and maybe she was, but something about her was too fascinating not to persuade. From the moment she started aggravating him with her jokes, she gave off an impression so impactful it was hard not to become effected by it. He feared he'd been affected too much.

After a few minutes she emerged, thankfully saving him from his thoughts. Her hair was pinned up and she wore a plaid dress, simple but radiant. He stood immediately as she came toward him, unable to speak for a moment but unable to look away. Awkwardly, he looked down at the floor instead, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat.

'You look wonderful.' He said, watching Clara's eyebrows raise.

'Really? I've worn this many times. Right, I've got just enough time I think. Thanks for waiting.'

'Uh, it's no problem.'

He hardly ever stuttered.

He took one last sweeping look at her living room, breathing in the scent of what was probably a mixture of wine and perfume. Classy, he thought, as he exited the room.

Once back in the car another thought arose as he drove down the motorway. Clara must be hungry. After all, she'd spent her whole evening in the office with him and hadn't had any tea. The same applied for him, although he was sure Missy had thrown his dinner out by now as he hadn't come home. Which meant only one thing.

'Clara, why don't we just quickly grab some food? Neither of us have eaten, and I'm sure it won't delay the journey more than a few minutes. You should eat.'

'There'll be food round Amy's house, I'm sure.'

'There's a McDonald's just up here, we could go drive through.'

'I don't have any money, John.'

'I'll pay.' He said, hearing her sigh.

'John, you've done enough for me today, I'm fine, really. And I embarrassed you terribly with the pizzas.'

Nevertheless he rounded the corner into a McDonald's and pulled up at the drive through window.

'I'll just have chips then.' She told him, yet he knew that she was only being polite. Instead he ordered both of them a burger, drink, and fries, much to Clara's exasperation.

'I'll pay you back.'

'Don't worry about it.' He said, smiling at how relieved she looked eating her burger. 'We both needed it.'

By the time they reached Amy's the sky was turning black but they were only a few minutes late. Clara had quickly disposed of her food and thanked him generously for it again. For some reason pleasing Clara gave him a certain pleasure, almost like it was an honour to spend this much time with her. He didn't get out of the car with her this time but she paused at his window.

'Thanks a lot, I really appreciate it. Oh, and don't worry about bringing my bike here, one of Amy's friends will give me a lift home. It's been a nice night with you, actually. I'll see you at work tomorrow. And thanks for the McDonald's again, I did need it.' She grinned. He waved as he drove past and then she was gone, out of sight. But not out of mind. He couldn't stop thinking about the whole evening with her, how she was much more pleasant outside of work. All the rivalry of pranks and jokes seemed to fall away and instead left two people who genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It was all he could do not to think of what it might be like tomorrow at work. Will it return back to normal? Would she treat him with more respect? Would they both get on with each other now? Time would only tell, and he found himself anticipating it almost nervously. He'd never been so het up about a colleague before, and what they might think of him. When she had tried to resign, an alarm went off in his head, and despite all the madness and stressed he caused for him, the thought of her leaving was preposterous. It was like he was seeing her for the first time, noticing fully the curve of her eyes, the shade of brown in her hair, her soft features hardened, her pointy nose. After tonight he knew that it would be difficult for her not to treat him nicely after all that he'd done but Clara was unexpected, to say the least. You could never know what she was going to do. When he finally reached home he slumped down on the sofa, not bothering to turn the TV on but instead indulging in his own thoughts. His eyes flickered closed as he lay there but all too soon a noise appeared from the doorway and he groaned loudly.

'Where've you been so late at night? You can't have been in the office all this time.'

'It's none of your business.'

'Oh, I know, I just like to make it my business.'

'Lay off, Missy. I'm going to bed now so stop with your questions because I'm not answering them.'

'You're very defensive tonight, aren't you?' She said, her voice raising in that ridiculous high-pitched tone he hated.

Again, he said nothing but walked on, approaching the stairs and trying his best to ignore her.

'It's a woman, right?'

When he didn't reply she almost broke his eardrums. 'It is! You've been with a woman all night, haven't you, John? Wonders will never cease! John Smith out gallivanting with women.'

'I don't gallivant.' He spat, but in doing so gave her all the confirmation she needed.

'At least you're not denying it this time. What have you been doing, you naughty boy?'

'Missy...' He sighed heavily. He was going to lose his temper if she didn't stop.

'How old is she? What's her name?'

Her first question temporarily struck him still on the stairs and for moments he could hardly move his legs. She was young. A lot younger than he was, whole generations younger. The pride in his head had turned to embarrassment as he racked his brains to think of a number. She couldn't be more than thirty, which obviously meant no such relationship could ever exist. He shook his head, admonishing himself. She isn't his girlfriend now just because he helped her travel and eat. That was stupid. Of course they weren't. They were only friends, if that. But as he moved on and his legs finally helped him walk he realised that he wasn't even sure they were friends. It was just a simple boss and colleague relationship, nothing more. Missy had been praising him too highly, which had gone to his head. John Smith hadn't gallivanted boldly anywhere, not for the last twenty to thirty years, anyway. It was why he lived with her and not with a partner or a wife.

But as he lost sight of her his mouth shaped the words of her name, smiling at the thought of her again. When he ultimately reached peace and slipped into bed for a long time his thoughts were rioting. Clara had taken over his head and he knew it was shameful, but he couldn't help it as he drifted off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

'Is that alright? She asked, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that night. 'I just need a lift.'

She looked into the kindly eyes of a woman who she had gotten along well with the light the baby shower.

'No, it's fine, really.' Sarah Jane said.

Clara had had her full share of asking and pleading today and wanted no more of it. Not from John, not from anyone. All throughout the shower however all she could think about was John. How different he was in those last few hours, how grateful she had been for his lifts and providing her with food. Clara never liked to plead much but she thought it better than letting John drive all the way back to work just to pick up her motorbike after all he had done. She would collect it the next day and hope that it was still there in the carpark.

She hugged both Amy and Rory goodbye and then stepped out onto the street with the group of others, all walking towards their cars. As she was about to get in to the foreign minivan she noticed something standing there between two red cars. A motorbike. Running over, she examined it as hers and grinned widely. John had retrieved her motorbike and towed it back there for her. She checked the gas, and when it roared to life she nearly shouted with exuberance. Why John had gone to those lengths she didn't understand but she was happy nonetheless to see it. She signalled to her friends that she didn't need a ride home anymore and gratefully swung her legs over it. Fixing on her helmet she raced off down the road and toward home. She was tired to no end after everything she'd done but somehow she felt it had all been worthwhile, learning more about John's 'good' side and getting to like how nice and hospitable he was. She knew she would have to thank him again and pay him back the next day but for now she focused on the conversations they'd shared in his car. Clara could hardly believe she even let him into her flat. It had been slightly awkward knowing he was there, the boss she was supposed to despise, but it was actually nice to have him there. All she worried about now was whether he'd take her advice and not be such a prick to everyone at work. She herself was only too eager to find out.

When she arrived there that morning she was vastly disappointed. He was pacing round the building, ignoring the traces of paper still littered around oddly from the paper aeroplanes the night before and cursing violently under his breath. Everyone looked warily to him, none daring to interrupt him in his distress. He finally marched into his office and all at once the tension lifted from the room. Yet Clara couldn't help but look worriedly at the blinded windows, where he was probably doing much more of the pacing and swearing. She thought that if it was going to be anyone asking him what was up, it would have to be her. After all he had wasted his night on her and she still felt a little guilty for keeping him so long. With the decision made she boldly rose from her seat and knocked on his door. She wondered if he would keep the same patience he had had with her yesterday.

'What is it?' He asked, a little too sharply. Okay, so he was more than a little angry.

'It's me.' Clara said, stepping into the room and closing the door fervently behind her.

'What's up?' She asked seriously.

'Mergers.' Was all he muttered, his hands loosely framing his face and his eyes a bloodshot red from fury.

She sighed and sat in the chair opposite him. Although unhappy about his mood, the fact that he was comfortably telling her and nobody else made her annoyingly pleased.

'Are they threatening to move us to Manchester?'

'Worse,' he answered darkly, 'I have to make job cuts and raise the company standard to 25%. No one's going to achieve that amount of work in three weeks, not even with the extended hours you're all doing.'

'Explain that to them then.'

'That's just it, Clara. I bet you that over 50% of people here will want to quit after I tell them what is required of them all now.'

'What's that?'

'It's working weekends.' He said. Clara stared, realising the impact that would be caused. He was right. More than half the staff would want to hand in resignations straight away.

'What if we all worked from home? I'm sure everyone here has a computer or laptop of some sort.'

'But do you really think that they're all going to actually do that? I know if I was still young and careless I wouldn't give a shit about doing work at the weekend. And this is just if we meet the target by the end of the three weeks. We either all pull through or they immigrate us to Manchester.'

'Maybe if we take a vote I don't think many of us will be too concerned if the company closes down or moves.'

'But I do, Clara. I don't let companies like this go to waste.'

'You're too ambitious. Why can't you just give it up?'

'And you'd be happy with losing all the money you make too?'

'I guess there are always other jobs.'

'Why doesn't anyone understand that my job is to protect the company, to save it? Can't everyone just work together, and harder?'

'In this day and age we just get lazier I guess.' She said.

'That's no excuse.'

'I know.'

A brief moment of silence was given so she could stare at the worried lines on his face.

'Can't you just let it go? If we're really moving or going out of business or being sold off why don't you just let it? It's not going to endanger your life, is it?'

He looked up then, stared straight into her eyes with a look that was physically chilling to behold.

'It will, and it already has.' He muttered.

'What's that supposed to mean?' She asked, scrunching up her face in confusion.

'Don't worry. I'll just have to find a better team and a better advisor in Manchester then because none of you are doing a good job at all.'

She stood, her mouth agape with fury. Why had he suddenly just reverted to being an uncaring and cruel man? Where was the easy going guy she had been with last night? She was sure it couldn't be just the stress affecting him. There must be something more, some sort of rapid mood change that was too uncontrollable to contain.

'Hang on, what the hell is happening here?! Do you even know how confusing you are?'

'Apparently not.'

'You were so different, you were better!'

'Oh, do you really think I was such a different person last night? I was being kind. Too kind for my own good. That's it.'

Clara was at bursting point. How could he go back on all his kind words and actions and completely turn her head a day later? How did he even find the strength to do that?

'My work is what I live for, Clara, understand? I've been a workaholic since my youth! You don't understand.' He dismissed.

'Oh no, I think I do understand. I understand perfectly. You're too proud to admit that you're failing. That you'll become a failure. You can't bear it.' She said, her words almost like poison being spat at his face. He sat there in stony silence, neither denying or accepting it. She gave him a violently questionable look and departed. She couldn't believe what she had heard. A deep disappointment settled over her and a twinge of regret mingled with guilt swirled in her gut at the look on his face. She didn't know why she suddenly cared so much. He was only her boss, not a friend she was willing to give advice to and help out. He didn't even deserve any guidance of hers. If he wanted to push the limits of the company that much and play everyone like strings he was welcome too. She decided that however nice he had been last night it had vanished, probably even eradicated from his very soul. And that she would hand in a resignation like she had wanted to at first until he had stopped her with his stupid 'I'm actually a great person' tactic. It wouldn't faze her this time. Fuck the stupid six month contract. No amount of extra money could convince her to stay if he was going to be like that. Clara had only just noticed however, that she still kept her resignation letter around her just in case. Maybe she'd slip it into his office when he wasn't there instead of having to face him herself, because whenever she did she became weaker and weaker. Over the course of the day she tried to leave her letter on his desk, but he hardly left his office and when he did she had been stopped very conveniently by another colleague. What really angered her the most was the fact he still hadn't told everyone else of his plans. He was a coward, simple as that, a coward she couldn't seem to dispel from her mind. Even as she worked double time and doubly fast, his face wouldn't leave her. At last, she couldn't bear keeping the knowledge to herself, and opened a private chat communication with John.

'Are you going to tell everyone else then?' She wrote.

After a few minutes of what she was sure was reluctance, he answered her.

'Tell them what?'

She sat for a moment staring at the reply in raging disbelief. Was he really trying to play dumb?

'Don't you dare act like you don't know. It's pathetic.' She could practically hear him sigh through the computer.

'I wasn't aware that I'd be head of a company that was practically destined for closure.' It seemed he was getting agitated more by how quick he wrote it.

'You should have checked it out thoroughly first, then.'

'I was just looking for a job with a good price!'

'Aren't we all?'

That stumped him for a few minutes before he popped back up again.

'I can't tell them yet.'

'They all have a right to know John. They have to know before they suddenly find their job out of their hands and nothing to pay the rent with. You're being a coward.'

'I'll do it tomorrow.'

She was about to type back but he wrote a promise underneath. Yet for Clara it wasn't enough.

'Do it today or I'll resign.' It was the only way, she thought, that he'd compromise. She was going to leave anyway, but he didn't need to know that. For a second she felt exactly how he must be feeling. Not telling other people of her plans.

'And now you're blackmailing me.'

'Well, I didn't think that would have been classed as blackmail. And I didn't think I was that important to you.'

She knew she had caught him, trapped him. There was no way John Smith was going to admit to needing her there in any way, and no way that he wanted to follow her orders.

She smiled victoriously at her computer screen, closing the chat down and carrying on with her work. Yet only a minute later she turned her chair round to see him take the centre stage of the office and announce he had some unfortunate news. Her eyes widened a little, still confused and clearly unexpectedly surprised he'd surrendered to her schemes.

While there were shouts and complaints when he'd ultimately finished, he caught her eye when he walked back into his office, a grim, begrudging look on his face. She felt the tiniest bit sorry but mostly satisfied at what he'd done.

And even though she still had resignation on her mind she decided to work as hard as she could for him for the last few days, even complete the work on her laptop at home, like he had advised everyone else to do.

He slammed the door behind him and slumped down on the sofa, trying to figure out how Clara had managed to overpower him with her own orders and commands. When she had introduced her blackmail to him he knew he was defeated. If there was one person on the team he didn't want to lose, it was her. Despite all the crap she'd put him through, the first few weeks of joking around and playing pranks, and now all the soldiering she had influenced on him. Why he felt so strongly about this he didn't know. Clara was a valuable team member admittedly but in usual circumstances if she'd wanted to resign he'd let her. But from yesterday he had sincerely proved he couldn't. God only knew what he'd try to do if she reconsidered it. He really couldn't afford to let the company slip any further than it already had, and in his mind he knew he could do it. It was just the tiredness, the lack of enthusiasm and optimism he had obtained in his younger self.

Exhaling deeply he eyed his laptop sitting beside him, shifting it over onto his lap defeatedly and continuing on with what he had been doing at work. But it didn't take long before his eyes were fluttering closed, slowly dozing off into an exhaustive sleep. It seemed like he had only slept for five minutes when Missy's voice reverberated through his ears and he sat up with a startled yawn.

'Leave the work alone, John, and go to bed. You've worn yourself out so much recently that I haven't even bothered cooking dinner for you. Come on, now.'

He rubbed his eyes, so very much wanting to retire to bed and yet remaining adamant.

'I'm fine, Missy, I have to complete it.'

'Don't make me come over here and drag you upstairs.'

'I told you, leave me alone!'

'You just keep on getting worse and worse.'

'You don't think I know that?!' He snapped, fury striking him in that moment. Even she didn't reply back, and finally turned from the room. He knew he shouldn't have shouted like that but when she brought things like that up it annoyed him more than anything else in the world. And because Missy didn't give up and was much more daring than he ever was, she stuck her head back in the room.

'Just don't forget your appointment on Thursday.'

He gave her a glare in response, letting her know that he was tormented enough that she didn't need to take it further. He heard her footsteps ascending the stairs and sighed relievedly.

He looked back at the laptop screen, nearly fading to black but he soon resumed to what he had been doing. Perusing the invoices of all the newest books he knew only a small percentage of the team would truly stick to their words of working at home. For a moment he didn't care at all, but then he reminded himself; he was the boss. He was the lifeboat of the company, the glue that kept everything together. He could demand anything from anyone. With a renewed surge of boldness he sent e-mails to everyone ensuring they get their targeted work done by the end of the week. At least then John couldn't be blamed for missing gaps of information in the system. With some confidence now intact, he found himself opening up the private chat Clara had opened earlier that day. Before he could even think he had typed and sent the message. And the strange thing was was that he didn't necessarily regret it.

'I'm going to save this business. Whatever it takes, I'll make sure it doesn't go wrong.'

He had to admit, it did sound a bit like he was depending on her praise and approval, but in truth all he wanted was to be reassured he could do the right thing. Sure enough, only a few minutes later (and perpetually surprised she had even seen it)' Clara had responded.

'Your mood swings are seriously starting to freak me out.'

He chuckled unknowingly at her comment, vowing in part that he really would limit being aggressive to her as much as he could.

'What do you think?'

'I think that if you really are willing to push everyone to their limits then you're pretty brave.'

'Do you mind?'

'Doing more work? Whatever gets me that pay check.'

He smiled fondly. In a way she reminded him of himself, back when he had done anything and everything to achieve what he wanted.

'I'm glad at least someone's on board with this.'

'If you be a little kinder and explain more maybe people will understand what you're trying to do.'

'Maybe.'

'What are you doing right now?' She asked. John raised his eyebrows a fraction at the change of subject.

'Just because I don't want to talk about work all the time.' She added.

'I'm sitting here barely surviving. How about you?'

He thought he could sense a smile through her message. 'Nearly doing the same as you, although I'm watching a movie too.'

'Oh, sorry for disturbing you.'

'Don't worry, it's fine. Nearly ended anyway.'

He fiddled with his fingers and stared at the screen, desperately trying to think of something else to say. He could almost feel Clara awaiting his reply. Thankfully, he didn't need to.

'You're a nice person, just a horrible boss.'

He smirked. 'And you're a relatively nice person but a very frustrating colleague.'

'Oi! That's not entirely fair, I'd have said you were worse than me. The boss from hell.'

'I thought you would have figured that out sooner.'

'It was my first thought, actually, when I saw you.'

'Well I'm going to get you back big time for all those pranks you played on me. You won't know when it's coming, but it will.'

'I'd like to see you try, eyebrows.'

He smiled at the screen. Clara was so easy to talk to, when she wasn't having a go at him. And he predicted 'eyebrows' was probably going to be a new nickname she'd use to annoy him. He almost couldn't believe he was talking to the same person as he had been hours ago.

'Well, I'm going to bed now so I'll see you tomorrow. Hopefully not swearing too much.'

'Alright then, see you tomorrow.'

She closed the chat, and John went back to doing his boring work, but could hardly get through it as thoughts had invaded his mind yet again. Of Clara, of their chat, of how she had shouted at him earlier that morning, and how she had managed to make him do what she had said. After only twenty minutes of struggle, he closed the laptop down and left it there, proceeding to bed gratefully.


	6. Chapter 6

Just want to say that the updates are slow, admittedly, but it's because I have a load of work on my hands and I'm trying my best. I am not going to abandon this story at all

Chapter 6

Clara felt like she had been stuck into an oven to burn incessantly from her own guilt. It seemed to build up and by the time she actually fell asleep the sky was lightening outside. She had felt as if a pressure of a hundred weights were on her shoulders. Pressures of money, pressures of her own decisions, pressures of him, being nice but somehow manipulatively needy of her presence. She felt as if she were cheating him, by sustaining a sense of friendship in their more appropriately termed awkward relationship, thereby leading him on whereas all she really wanted to do was leave him and the company altogether.

Her mind was buzzing for what seemed like hours, her thoughts aching in her head as she tried to get to sleep. She had purposefully excused herself from their chat not necessarily because she was tired but because anymore and she might have even agreed to staying. What was more she couldn't find the strength to stop herself from playing with him a bit, teasing and generally treating him as a friend. It was a wrong path to make but she felt that if it softened his exterior just a little bit people would listen to him.

When she woke up and the light had filtered in through the window she knew something was wrong. Yawning loudly and groaning at the crushing lack of sleep that still made her brain fuzzy, she glanced at her phone with its alarm already stopped from too much repeating. Grabbing it, her mouth wide open in horror she realised she was meant to be at the office half an hour ago. Frantically getting dressed, her flat remained messy that day with her clothes strewn over her floor and the bathroom in a state while she was trying to brush her teeth. She managed to collect herself and walk out the door twenty minutes later, revving up her motorbike and roaring away down the lane. It was his fault, she told herself angrily, if he hadn't just left her alone and not filled her mind with contrition. She would be on time and well rested if he had t just wanted to be her friend. If he so much as complains at her she thought she might explode at him. Finally parking in a spare space she almost hurried off with her helmet still on her head, and cursing, set it back before running in the direction of the doors. As usual there was the delay for the lift and when she finally got in and chef,ed her phone it was almost 10 o'clock. Swearing violently she trudged heavily to her desk, but not without passing John. She sighed when she saw his face, expecting a good shouting from him when she approached but amazingly, all he did was smile at her cheerfully with a: 'good morning!' that still rung strangely in her ears. As she settled herself in her chair she examined him, weaving his way through the desks and people, checking on their progress, giving them advice. She even caught one person laugh at something he'd said. She stared amazed, awestruck even. What he had done to suddenly become respected by his colleagues she didn't know, but knew that it was unnatural. He had been their manager for just over three and a half months now and not once had he ever been seen like this, especially outside his office for so long. Clara was so captivated by her thoughts of his sudden change of mood that she jumped violently when a voice caught her from behind.

'Your computer's going to sleep, Clara, you need to get on task.'

She swivelled around to see his face, a hint of a smile in his lips and a reassuring expression on his face. It was like watching a grumpy cat suddenly meow in exultance. What was more, he was leaning over her chair and staring intently, and being this close to him was starting to make her shift more in her seat.

'I've forgiven you already by not asking you why you were late, the least you can do for me is focus on your work. Sitting around staring into space won't benefit the company, now, will it?'

'You're being weird.' She whispered, an accusing tone in her voice.

'And right now, Clara, you're being an underperforming customer service manager.'

She wanted to fight back, to ask what he was doing. But she knew that by counteracting she would probably make things worse and cause a scene. There was nothing she hated more than patronisation, and from John himself it made it all the more condescending. Instead she gave him a suspicious glare and then started on her tasks. As she was late it was only another hour and a half until their lunch break, which meant she could ask him then. Time actually seemed to fly away by the time John peculiarly announced it was lunch and Clara hadn't even completed half of the work she needed to do.

'See, time practically escapes you when you're busy at work. Then it feels like you're having more of a break!' John had said, as everyone rushed to the lunch area and kitchen. Clara made herself a cup of tea and marched straight into his office, not even bothering to knock politely. John was sat there amidst an organised (for once), desk and typing away at his keyboard.

'What are you doing?' She asked.

'Typing. Is that alright with you?'

'I mean, what's got into you now, that you've suddenly started hanging round desks and encouraging people to work.'

'Oh, did you like me dark and broody better?'

'What-no! I'm just asking what's happened since your stroppy state until now?'

'I took your advice.' He said matter of factly, his eyes not daring to stare anywhere in her direction.

'What advice?' She asked, still confused. What had she influenced in him so strongly that his behaviour had completely changed overnight?

'Being kinder, explaining to everyone our situation and how we can go around fixing it. Everyone is a lot more understanding now. That's what you recommended I do last night.'

Her brain zoomed back to the night before, when she had been tucked into bed with a cup of tea, and her laptop lay across her when she had been as equally amazed at his sudden confidence as she was now. She vaguely remembered her advising him on what he should do.

'And you actually took my advice?' She said incredulously.

He nodded. 'There's a meeting I've arranged for next week and I've rounded up all the managers of each department for it, which includes you, so-'

'Wait, so what did you tell them?' She ignored, sitting down in the chair opposite him, her mug held up to her lips but her mind much more interested in what he had said.

'What? I just told them about the merger thing and the expected redundancies, about the standard rate increasing and the amount of work needed to satisfy the distributor managers.'

'And?'

'And they were all pretty pissed off, obviously. But I managed to persuade them to take a practical approach and achieve more in their working hours. I told them I'd be checking their progress every so often and suddenly the morale became infectious. You would have been there if you hadn't of turned up two hours late.'

'Yeah, well, I didn't get much sleep last night.' She muttered. In a way, she still hadn't forgiven him for unknowingly invading her thoughts.

'Really, why not?' He asked, turning away from his screen to look at her. He seemed almost...concerned. Clara was beginning to wish he would return to normal just a little bit. Being caring and happy just did not suit his demeanour or appearance at all well. As such, she decided to ignore his question.

'So, are you still enforcing the 'take your work home with you' rule?'

'Not just yet. I'm going to review where everyone's at by the end of the week and if we're still just a little under the standard I'll have to take that option into account.'

'So, just like that, everyone perked up? You started being all...cheery and the work is now being controlled and managed enough so we might make it without redundancies and mergers?'

'Well, I haven't made it that far yet but I've just seen the overall weekly standards and if all goes well this week there is some hope that we can achieve to being on top of everything again without job losses and moving branches.'

'Wow. You've considered a lot in one night, haven't you?'

'I guess I've just been too stressed out at the moment. Oh, and I've also held out a little survey and it turns out that more people than you thought are desperate to still keep their jobs. Whether it's the money or their own personal situation, I don't know, but only thirty five percent weren't concerned if this branch closed down.'

'Okay, you really are freaking me out now. Since when has John Smith been this organised?'

'Not since I was working successfully. That was a long time ago.'

'Do you ever stop working?' She asked, sipping her tea.

'No. But if I did, would everyone now be focused on the same goals? I'm betting they wouldn't.'

Okay, at least he hadn't changed that much. He was still a smug, proud bastard.

'Lunch should be over now. You should get back to your desk, Clara.'

'You're telling me what to do, now, eyebrows? You're telling Clara Oswald what to do?'

He grinned. 'Yes.'

'Fine, boss. But don't get comfortable for too long. I'm the boss.' She warned him. She could feel the smile I'm his eyes even as she turned her back but before she could fully leave him his voice called out.

'Clara?'

Her head popped back in to look at him.

'Thank you for the advice.' He said.

She smiled awkwardly at him in return before closing the door behind her.

Both hands rubbed over her eyes exasperatedly, and this time not from fatigue. It was getting more confusing, too confusing for her. She had been through anger and guilt and disappointment at him, and then joking and laughing and cordiality. It was making her brain hurt, her morals become puzzled. Every single day since she stopped pranking him had been on and off days. One day they're arguing, and the next they were advising each other and working together. It made her decision to leave so much harder. She found John Smith frustrating even when he was happy, and when he was angry she detested him more and more. It felt as if it had been a dangerous decision ever to become the one person closest to him, to save her from all this pressure. She knew she should just make the decision for herself, resign if she truly wanted to resign, become the English teacher she'd always wanted to become and forget his six month deal if she wanted to forget. But every time she became sure of what she wanted to do it was always him preventing her with his suddenly apologetic mood and kindness. She knew it would eventually become harder and that in time just the look on John's face would manage to sway her but she couldn't focus on that now. Probably to John's much discouragement, she wasn't even concentrating on her work. All she wanted to do was get home, curl up on her bed with a favourite book and forget him for the moment. Live a free day without him on her mind all the time. Why was she so damned fascinated with him? Why was she so drawn to him? Why did she react so strongly to his anger and his frustration and his kindness and his geniality?

Her musings ended when everyone started to move and shuffle out of their seats around her, and she realised it was home time. Picking up her jacket from the back of her seat she walked to the elevator before any interaction with John could occur and rode home with conflict still in her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

It had taken many hours that night, but finally she had made a decision. When her original plan of sitting in bed comfortably with a book only worsened her conscience she knew that the pressing matter had to be made up in her mind otherwise she'd never achieve the simple peace she desired. So instead she opened her laptop and began perusing the Internet for teaching jobs, after coming to the conclusion that she might as well look for and apply for jobs first before resigning so finally. As it was, she found a vacancy in a school she knew was not too far from her flat, a local school called Coal Hill. Clara thought it almost a miracle when she saw that they were looking for an English teacher. She checked the salary, and while it was less than she was earning now, it was definitely sufficient enough to keep her going and pay her remaining debts. It was just as she thought might be the pay of a teacher. In no time at all she had emailed the headmaster wondering if she could be interviewed and by the end of it Clara was feeling pretty pleased with herself. She knew that it felt right to be using her qualifications for once, all her training as a teacher she had gained before she had gotten into the large and stupid debt and settled for the IT job that paid just enough. She knew that if she did truly get the job her father would be proud that she was finally putting her English qualifications to good use, as he had always prompted her to. Within only half an hour the headmaster had come back with an acceptance and a date for an interview. Clara felt like whooping with joy. For the first time she really was doing something she wanted, she was breaking free from the boring and easy IT tasks to work with something she loved and enjoyed. It felt like success. The headmaster had told her to come in for an interview that Friday, and with such a short time Clara was anticipating it already. Just and only then, she noticed that she hadn't thought of John once since finding the Coal Hill job, and she decided that it was a good thing. Yet her mind wondered to when she inescapably told him of her leaving, his reaction. It stuck in her mind for a while before she ruthlessly banished it and told herself that it didn't matter what he thought. She wanted to move on, so that's what she'd do. Clara pondered telling her father that she had applied for a teaching job at long last. She always had a fault of getting excited about things that weren't definite. A running theme in her life apparently, thinking back to that day in her head that seemed so perfect, causing her all that pain and damage and debt she got herself tangled up in. She didn't want to live so dependant on a person anymore, and it's what she felt like was happening with John. She needed to get away from that.

Dialling her fathers number she held it to her ear nervously, the phone ringing on until he eventually picked it up.

'Hello?'

'Dad.' She breathed. Clara realised that she hadn't spoken nor seen him for a while, and it was nice to talk to him properly again

'Clara!' He said, surprisedly.

'Hi, I just wanted to let you know that I've been thinking of leaving the book publishers and I've applied for a job at the local school.'

'Oh, that's wonderful Clara! You know what I've always said, you should have moved onto teaching years ago! You have been at the publishers for quite a long time, I think it's great that you're using the best of your education again.'

'Thanks dad.' She grinned. Hearing him say that really was a treasure as he didn't say it often.

'What school is it?'

'Not far from here, it's Coal Hill. I have an interview on Friday.'

'That's brilliant, Clara. I'm glad you're doing this. And I've heard of Coal Hill, I don't think it's a bad school. You'll probably enjoy it there.'

'Yeah, I'm hoping to, if I get through the interview.'

'I'm sure you will, you've had a strong affinity for English since preschool.'

'Yeah, trying not to get my hopes up too soon, though.'

'Ah, no, course not. Well, I'm happy you've decided to do this. And maybe I could see you in a few weeks? It feels like it's been ages.'

'Yeah, definitely. Okay then, bye.'

The phone call had certainly given her a positive outlook, and assured her that it was worth doing. After all, it wasn't John's choice, he shouldn't even be the reason he was stopping her and making her unsure. Collapsing back onto her bed she speculated just when she would tell him of her interview and possible resignation. In his office, after work, before work? She couldn't even work out how she had gotten into all of this, how she had become his, dare she say it, 'friend.' All she knew was that she could hardly bear the thought of him so let down and irate. Would he be offended? Would he comprehensively accept she wanted to leave? Even with all the questions in her mind, she managed to rest peacefully knowing she had done something for her own personal achievement.

Whatever Clara had instilled in him it was definitely making the job less painful, and the morale of the whole team fixed on trying to get the company out of a crisis. He wasn't convincing himself at all it had changed himself as a person. No, that was just Clara's advice of being 'kinder' to people instead of shouting and swearing so much. He did notice his voice wasn't so strained as usual and the terrible itch at the back of his throat from cursing loudly had slowly dissipated. Of course, being falsely cheery to Clara was an act, an act that he thought she might not have picked up on. Maybe even, she thought he was a changed person. Perhaps he'd have to act a little grumpier today to let her know it wasn't real. He observed the stormy grey sky thoughtfully from his car window. By the time he parked in front of the building the rain had already started pouring down. The car park was deserted, his hair already flattening as he climbed out of his car. He usually got to work twenty minutes earlier than everyone else, and he always appreciated the serene silence of the office, no noise, no tapping at keyboards. He quickly turned to the kitchen and made himself a hot chocolate, sipping the hot drink tentatively and glad of the warmth it provided him. Yet while he was doing that he was unaware of the person standing in front of him. He glanced upward and there she was, nearly making him spill his drink down himself.

'Clara!' He gasped, 'what are you doing here early?'

'I could ask you the same thing.'

She looked a little gloomy as she stood there, from the weather or something else he couldn't tell, yet she wasn't soaked with rain like he was. It occurred to him that she had gotten there before the rain had even started, but he didn't recall her bike being there.

'I always get in a few minutes earlier.' He said.

'Well, I'm glad I was right about that. I just wanted to tell you something, alone.'

'Fine, okay, we can talk in my office.' He proceeded toward the door, freeing the key from his trouser pocket and unlocking the door. He set his mug on his desk and sat down expectantly. She walked nervously to the chair across from him and John wondered just what it was that could have made Clara arrive early just to talk. She usually barged into his office unannounced daily anyway.

'Are you alright, then? Something important happen?' He promoted.

'John, I'm handing in my resignation.'

For a moment he didn't understand the words that came from her mouth, but suddenly they started to sink in and his eyes stared at hers. He could feel his face fall and Clara look uncomfortable at the sight of his speechlessness.

'Why?' He managed to say, his voice trying to contain the agitation he felt.

'I've found a job at a school not too far away. They want an English teacher, and well, I applied for it. I have an interview today at lunch. I'll be here for the first half of the day but I'll probably go home after it if that's okay.'

Nothing else of what she was saying remotely made sense to him, other than the words 'interview' and 'English teacher.'

'You understand, right?' She asked uneasily, 'I did tell you I've always wanted to teach.'

He could tell that his stony silence was starting to unnerve her.

'But what about our deal?!' He said, probably louder than was necessary, 'you agreed! I asked six more months of you, and then you could go on to do whatever you wished after that.'

'I know, but-'

'I paid you extra, too! £700 of the company's money that I couldn't really afford to give you, but did anyway out of kindness. We negotiated, Clara.'

'John-'

'You can't just throw that back at my face!' He said, becoming madder and louder, his body nearly shaking trying to contain it.

'Why do you even want me here so much?' She asked, but he ignored her.

'I didn't even like you at the beginning, you annoyed me so much I wanted to quit too,'

'John!'

'But I didn't, and gave you a chance. Why can't you do that for me?!'

'JOHN SMITH!'

Clara was standing over him now, her face just as incensed as he felt. He quietened down straight away, but slowly stood up to tower her. There was a few seconds of intimidating silence when they both stared at each other, Clara probably preparing herself to shout back at him. Amazingly, she didn't.

'I've wanted to resign since the first time I tried to, but it's probably been in the back of my mind a lot longer, before you were even made manager. The teaching job is a more challenging but better fit for me.'

'Don't you need to do all those exams and training?'

'I've already got the perfect qualifications for it. I was training to be a teacher but I never managed to get a job. That's when I ran into debt.' She paused, and he could tell that asking about it would set her off even more.

'But why? Why not just stay those six months more?'

'Why do you need me for six months?' She stepped toward him.

'I need every pair of hands I've got.'

'That's not the real reason.'

'Of course it is.'

'No.' She said indignantly.

'It's only an interview, anyway, you might not get the job.'

'I'm still quitting.'

'What's your salary? I bet it's nowhere near as good as your current one. If you stay for the six months I'll...I'll add on another grand.'

'John, it's my choice. I want to leave this company.'

'Why?' He asked fiercely.

'It's not because of you. Although you drive me up the wall sometimes.'

'You think you don't with me? I swear those first few weeks I wanted to fucking kill you with all the hell you put me through!'

'So what's changed?!' She yelled at him.

'I'm pretty sure nothing has because you still make me mad!'

'Well you're not an angel yourself, John! I hate the way you fucking confuse me so much with your arrogant, ill-tempered attitude and then smile at me the next minute like nothing's bloody happened!'

He was aware they were getting closer but all he was fixed on was her face, and making her hurt for what she was trying to do. They were hurling insults at each other back and forth as quick as a tennis ball in a match, and that's what it had culminated to; a shouting match.

'Why are you so infuriating?' She whispered venomously. After the raucous shouting at each other the silence was almost tangible. Her lowered tone created tension he didn't want to feel, and John was very aware that her body was close to his, her eyes searching his face as if looking for the answer.

He didn't know who pulled in first, but all he knew next was that her lips were on his, crushing him, taking all the breath out of his lungs. Which was probably a bad thing. It was violent and filled with rage, but also passionate and fiery, which confused his mind just as much as his lips. Her kiss was like nicotine, something tainted with poison that he couldn't get enough of. The lust took over him, his lips melded into hers and he could tell that they were both enjoying it too much for their own good. She bit down on his lower lip in annoyance, both of them still furious at each other and expertly channelling it through their battle of dominance. All at once more antagonising rage filled them and Clara's arms were loping round his neck to pull on his hair, as he brought her face closer to his. With a brute force he didn't know she possessed he found himself pressed up against the wall and trying desperately to make himself stop but the indulgences and pleasure of her kiss made it impossible to resist. They were both still fired up with fury and John felt something stir inside him that hadn't been unleashed in years. The tugging of his hair had finally stopped and her hands rested at the nape of his neck as she finally let herself melt into him. He was enthralled in her, all at once, his hands finally remembering to function and beginning to wander over her body, but they didn't get far. They were both caught up in what they were doing so heavily that it took a while for them to register voices coming from the elevator. They quickly scrambled off each other, staring into the other's face for a few seconds, amazed and slightly pissed off equally at what they'd just done. But, not wishing for everyone to find out, they waited until no one else was coming from the elevator and Clara walked into the office area as if she'd just arrived. Yet before she went he had told her, 'go to the interview.' Clara had given him what he suspected was a smile. Now, he walked out of his office to greet everyone, more self-conscious than usual about his appearance, and his hair that probably looked wilder and rougher than it should do. He could see Clara in the very corners of his eyes, looking coolly up at him. His lips quivered and he half smirked in her general direction without meaning to. After finishing saying what he wanted to say he exchanged looks with Clara before escaping back into his office.

If Clara had foreseen that she would be kissing John Smith in his office that morning she probably wouldn't have even went. The whole situation was up in flames, now that they had kissed and she had...she had liked it. Too much, she thought, her mind miles away from the road she was supposed to be concentrating on and reminiscing the whole conversation, how suddenly they were so close together, so close that their lips touched...she swerved, narrowly just missing a car that she had unknowingly drifted toward. Too many thoughts about John, all about John, she was worried she'd completely mess up the interview if she was going to start daydreaming. Clara knew in her heart that everything she had done had been leading up to that kiss, and now it had happened she felt it run through her veins and rush to her head; the notion of liking him, feelings for him, it had been hazy and obscured before but now she could see it plain and clear in front of her. She hadn't missed the same look pass on his face as they had stared at each other after, the pure shock of what they had done coming to realisation. She could still feel the ghost of his lips that left a mark on her own, what she thought would be rough were actually very soft. Clara also knew that it hadn't started off the kiss it had ended. She was so furious with him and he so furious with her that their lips collided without a second thought and it was nothing more than anger. But then it had sunk in, he pressed for more and she couldn't help giving in as it became carnal and lustful, so much more than she had intended. She didn't regret it; she was only angry at herself for confusing her brain even more now with trying to manage newfound feelings and the pressuring ordeal of her job situation. If she got the job today, would she gladly accept it? Would she run back to the publishers and continue work there? She thought it a kind gesture when John had told her to go to the interview but knew that was only influence from her. He probably didn't want to end it on a bad note.

She rounded into the car park of Coal Hill, a school outwardly bigger than she had expected, and very traditional-like going by the exterior. She nervously walked up to the guest entrance, and greeted the headmaster, an old man called Mr Armitage who seemed pretty friendly. He shook her hand and Clara managed to successfully banish thoughts of John from her head while he talked.

'So, Miss Oswald, do you have any experience with teaching at all?'

'Uhm, regretfully not. I've been trained properly and done all the courses but I've never set foot inside the classroom. I had applied at a school who accepted me but unfortunate events made it impossible. I needed more money than the pay gave me.'

'Right. And is this the kind of school you're trained in working at?'

'Yes, I always wanted to teach high school students in particular.'

He lead her around the school on a small tour, and Clara examined most of the area and classrooms. It wasn't as traditional as she initially perceived but as nice as any secondary school she would expect.

The interview went on for what seemed like hours but had only passed as minutes, and she grew more confident with each question he gave her until she was sure she had given off some sort of good impression.

'Miss Oswald, you are exactly what the school needs.' He praised.

'Oh, really?' She asked, surprised.

'Yes, we're desperate for a proper new English teacher, the year 7's and 8's have had cover teachers for weeks. When would you be able to start?'

Clara was shocked. She hadn't thought that he would be willing to give her the job on the spot. Her mind hesitated, and her thoughts travelled back to John, to their deal, to the money that she quickly summed up mentally could manage to pay off the rest of her debts before settling into a lower salary.

'Six months.' She said weakly.

'Isn't there any sooner time you can start?' He asked, looking quite distressed.

'No. I'm sorry, but after that is the only time.'

What was she doing? She felt like screaming at herself. Here was her golden opputunity, a one time job offer that she couldn't afford playing games with but here she was regardless, testing the waters.

He deliberated a moment, and Clara bet that she had blown her chances already. If she hadn't of kissed him she wouldn't have been so persuaded. If she hadn't of kissed him...

'Well, I'll see what I can do. We should be able to get in a suitable temporary teacher and you can start next year in May.'

Clara was well and truly amazed. 'Of-of course.' She stuttered, shaking his hand again.

How she had managed to secure a job and stay at the publishers for her and John's agreed six months she could only account for as a miracle. When she left the school and started to drive she decided that instead of going home, she would tell John. Nothing seemed better to her then than telling him she would stay.

When she arrived everyone stared at her like she was the ghost of bloody past and it unnerved her more than it should've. She had told everyone she wouldn't return after she left so in a way it looked suspicious when she suddenly let herself in to the managers office. He turned around immediately, eyes widening.

'Clara, I thought you were going to go home after-'

'I was, but I decided to come and tell you...I got the job.'

She could see his face fall, and it pained her to see it.

'So soon? No hesitation, no phone calls, just like that?' He asked, the disappointment audible in his tone.

'Yes, they're desperate for a new teacher.' She stepped toward him and looked up into his cold, disbelieving blue eyes.

'Which is why I told them I'd accept the job in six months.'

It took a second to sink in but once it did he stared down at her, his eyes blinking ferociously as he comprehended and for the first time he was properly and thoroughly taken aback.

'And was that alright with them?'

'Yes. I'll start after the half term in May.'

'Oh, Clara,' he whispered. She could feel a moment creeping up on them but John saved them from it.

'I was meant to apologise to you anyway, it was foolish of me to bribe you with money and force you to stay.'

'Well, I worked out that in the end after six months I'll have enough money saved up to pay of all my remaining debt and then I can settle into teaching. And also...something about you, John Smith, made me want to stay.'

He smiled at her, properly smiled, and Clara didn't know how she hadn't appreciated it before.

With shock she suddenly felt arms wrap round her and his whole body bend downward to hug her. She closed her arms around him but not without feeling peculiar in his tight embrace.

'Thanks.' He coughed, wavering at her shoulder before finally letting go.

'Why did you want me to stay in the first place?'

'Because you're the only friend I have, Clara Oswald.'

Her expression softened, her hand absentmindedly reached up to rest at his cheek. His eyelids fluttered closed briefly with calmness but opened again. His pale blue eyes stared down at her and she thought she saw something almost fond in the way he looked at her.

'That's why I did it.' She whispered, leaning upward to press a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. Nothing brilliantly electrifying, but tender enough.

'You can go back home now. If you want.'

A part of her wanted desperately to stay, to talk with him like they had as friends, not colleagues. She even wanted to talk about her own feelings for him but knew that would be as uncomfortable as she felt. But she had to make sure of one thing before she departed.

'You won't...you won't tell anyone about this, will you?'

'About what?'

She struggled to say the words. 'Us. You won't tell them.' She jerked a thumb to where everyone was working. John looked pleased to hear the word 'us' and ensured her of absolute secrecy.

'Why would I do that?' He grinned. She returned one back and exited his office. She had, in not so many words, confirmed of what she wanted to him. She wanted him as more than a friend, she was so sure she could have sworn an oath. Since their kiss that morning it had awoken something in her mind and her body, and no doubt had done the same to John. Her only cause of worry was people finding out. She didn't want everyone to start gossiping about the "secret" relationship between the boss and the colleague. And she especially didn't want them to gossip of the disgrace and humiliation of being with a 58 year old man at the age of 30. No one could know, not even her family. Especially not her family. If her dad found out that she loved a man as old as him he'd likely go ballistic. It was the only danger to the relationship that gave her negative feelings. But when she thought back to John...well, everything seemed to disappear. When she got home she made herself a well-deserved cup of tea and reflected on the interview and John. Making them both achievable pleased her a lot, with a teaching job successfully managed and the negotiation with John also taken care of, it settled her mind to know that she had gotten both of the things she'd wanted. And while she'd still have to put up with the boring work she was sure seeing him everyday would lessen that pain. Clara jumped at the sound of her laptop going off, as she had been deep within her thoughts. Opening it up, she couldn't help the grin that spread across her face when the message sender read 'John.'


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

When Clara walked to her desk she looked up to see John poke his head not too subtly out of the door to grin at her. She grinned back but waved him away, smiling disapprovingly. They had kept what she had thought as a very obvious relationship concealed and well hidden. It had been two weeks since the kiss that had started the whole charade, and Clara felt a lot less pressurised now that she wasn't rivalling against her boss every day. They still argued, of course, but that was only because the pair of them clashed so hard it could cause every sort of argument there was. They hadn't discussed anything too seriously about their relationship but Clara knew already after a few short days that it wasn't just an office fling. Everything about him just called out to her for so many reasons unbeknownst to her. She had even considered their situation a month or a year on, if she ever allowed herself to fall further than she already had. And signs of a long term admiration threatened her as she found her heart racing whenever he was nearby, always unsure of what he was going to do, and everything that had seemed normal before was distorted. Clara found herself anticipating each day so she could see him, although the occasional message from John himself to 'stop daydreaming and get on with work' made regular appearances. In return she teased him for it, calling herself 'the boss' and imitating him in a very bad Scottish accent. Clara would try and make every excuse to interrupt him in his office, and every time she did he could never take her seriously. Sometimes she even had the audacity to disappear from the lunch room to his office for a 'rendezvous.'

For once, she was actually very focused on her work, trying desperately to get everything done that was meant to be completed by last week. Being 'friends' with the manager had its advantages, as each time he started to complain about her underperformance she had the power to tease him in ways he couldn't argue against. He often called her a menace which would only drive her on. But she decided that she would devote the rest of her time on getting to work, to make John happy and help him get out of the crisis. From what she knew the company had managed to reach their ultimatum but still needed to surpass the best of their efforts to keep from the branch moving.

'Hey, everyone!' Rumbled the familiar voice, and she swerved around to see him address the whole office. 'Just a brief minute of your time, please. I need all the team managers for the meeting we discussed a few weeks ago, with the heads of the establishment. We have to show them the improvement we've made and the future of the company we intend to direct it toward. Thanks, follow me.'

A crowd of people made their way to John but it was only then she realised she herself was a team manager and was expected to attend the meeting. In those seconds she panicked, because her improvement was probably less than satisfactory, and she didn't want to let John down, not at all. She couldn't bear to imagine his reaction if all went wrong because of her. It later transpired that she hadn't taken a step out of her seat and had sat there frozen.

'That includes you too, Clara.' He cut through, breaking her from her daze. She looked up into his hopeful eyes, already feeling cautious. She managed to walk over to the small group, being herded into a meeting room where two men were already sitting. At their arrival they stood to shake each of their hands and introduce themselves. She just hoped they didn't look at her progress in particular. As it was, John subtly coordinated himself so he was sitting next to her, and Clara didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. The two businessmen started talking, and John listened intently but she couldn't make herself pay attention, even though she was mindful of the fact that it was very important. She stared around at her fellow colleagues, who were also listening with a patience she had never seen them possess before. Suddenly she felt a hand grip hers softly under the table, and she stiffened just a little at the contact, while appreciative of his support. His fingers stroked the span of her hand in a soothing rhythm that almost managed to calm her, whilst talking aptly to the table. She made a mental note to ask John afterwards what he had been talking about because truthfully his fingers were distracting her even more than usual. A few minutes later and everyone was still conversing with a matter of strict business plan and Clara was beginning to feel drowsy just sitting there. As she had hoped no one had turned to her to ask anything, and John's hand had took hers fully. She sighed, a little louder than she had intended, but not enough for everyone to hear. Although John had, and the next thing she felt was the release of his warm palm and the feel of his fingers brushing the inside of her thigh softly, almost making her squirm. She tried to keep calm but his touches were making her feel light-headed, as his hand began to wander upward achingly slow and Clara's lips pressed firmly together to keep her from gasping. The tips of his fingers curled into her skin every so often, just to make her shudder and undoubtedly to make her madder. Clara nervously swallowed and hoped beyond life itself no one had noticed her unusual disposition, and God forbid if anyone glanced down enough to see what was happening under the table. Her eyes swerved to look at him but he was still talking rapidly, wickedly remaining impervious of his ministrations. She felt her cheeks burn as he caressed her skin and her mind turned from innocent to indecent in seconds. She was to make sure he would pay dearly for his teasing. He carried on like that for ages, Clara not even daring to move or make a sound as his fingers hastened their activity from gently stroking to almost rubbing furiously along her leg. She fruitlessly made efforts to stay controlled and collected but his hand was suddenly sliding between her thighs and Clara braced herself immensely as his fingertips just reached that spot before he drew away and Clara let out a shaky breath of frustration. As it happened she hadn't even noticed the meeting had ended and everyone had risen, including John. She tried to smile but her cheeks were red hot and she felt unsatisfied to say the least. She had just started to become less tense when he had declared the meeting over, and suddenly it hit her that he had told her he'd get her back for all her pranks and this was decidedly it. Her mind whirred with conniption as she turned to stare at his smug face trying to hide his triumphant smile, but of course he made no eye contact and walked straight out of the room. Soon enough, she was the only one left standing there still shocked with what he'd done. But it didn't take long for her to march suddenly out of the room and straight into his office. Yet she stopped herself speaking just in time to spot one of her colleagues talking with John. She recognised him as Danny, one of the guys belonging to the department that accepted authors with their books or declined them. She had spoken to him sometimes but now as they both stared up at her she said nothing. She could see John smirk and then turn back to Danny (who, she could see, was irritating him greatly) as she stepped back outside. As soon as Danny left she would bear down on him like five tonnes of weights on his back, she swore she would. Clara reluctantly retreated back to her desk and waited as patiently as she could until Danny appeared, looking aggravated for the most part and just about suppressing the temptation of slamming the door shut. Clara couldn't blame him. She quickly walked in and closed the door before anyone else could try enter the office and stared at him without a word.

'You sure you should be here, Clara, you've got a lot of work to do.' He teased, stretched out in his seat, his legs propped up on his desk and his computer momentarily going to sleep. He was also eating a pot of noodles while gazing out his window.

'What did you do to him?' She asked as she sat down, trying to act cool enough as if she wasn't ready to incinerate him with a dictionary of offensive, obscene language.

'What, PE?'

'If you're talking about Danny, then yes. Seems pretty pissed off with you.'

He wrinkled his nose. 'I guess he is, yeah.'

'Like I am.'

'What?' He stared in confusion.

'I'm pissed too John, cause you were being a little shit back at the meeting.'

He threw back his head and laughed, something she couldn't help admiring. He didn't do it too often and her features automatically softened.

'It isn't funny, John!' She said incredulously, trying desperately to suppress her own grin. He was terrible for making her smile in the wrong moments.

'See, I told you I'd get you back, didn't I?' He said, his Scottish accent turning on her with a mocking tone.

'You're gonna make up for it.'

'Oh, really?' He snorted. He was focusing intently on his noodles and Clara reached over her desk to pry it from his hands before taking hold of his tie and positively pulling him toward her. He looked vaguely amused at her sudden movement.

'Yes, you are.' She said firmly.

'Are you going to let go of my tie?'

She paused, and then, 'no.' Although she couldn't conceal the mischievous smile that played on her lips suggestively. 'It might come in handy when I need to shut you up.'

'As much as this is very amusing, it is inappropriate to grab your boss by his tie and threaten him with it.'

'It's also inappropriate to tease your colleagues while in meetings.' She quipped back. His eyebrow raised, and she could tell just how much he wanted to close the gap between them both. Yet she released him and he fell back into his chair. She sat there looking at him with gratifying victory while he tightened his tie back in place.

'You, Miss Oswald, need to be put on a leash.'

'And you, Mr Smith, need your hands chopped off. See ya later.' She called, stalking out proudly and keeping her smile plastered on her face.

But she knew it wouldn't stay silent for long. Only 30 minutes later he was going back on his words and wanted Clara to talk to him instead of doing her much needed work. She smiled when his name popped up on her computer and it caught the attention of her fellow colleague.

'What are you smiling about?' Rose peered over the edge of her computer, raising her eyebrows at Clara.

'Don't know what you're talking about.' She said idly, and then smiled at her when Rose gave her a knowing look. She deliberated telling her exactly what was making her smile but then she remembered; she didn't want rumours spreading like wildfire, and while Rose was a dear friend, she didn't trust her enough to be reassured she would keep her silence. Instead she turned back to her screen, reading quickly and raising her eyebrows at what it said.

'Lunch. 5 minutes. Chips and coffee.'

He wasn't trying to order her around at all, then. Why he didn't have the balls just to ask her out to lunch like a normal person was beyond her and yet she couldn't resist the formality of it. She checked the time, and indeed it was only ten minutes. Unable to resign back to her work for the last minutes of the morning she settled on teasing him.

'And what if I don't want to?' She typed back. There was a pause in which she thought for a second she had been rude, but sure enough he typed back with his usual fortitude.

'I can only force you so many times.'

'What's that supposed to mean?!'

'Do you want to go to lunch with me or not?'

His stern and abrupt question left her a little lost in thought, and a little girlish too, for a wide, childish grin had spread on her face as if she'd just walked into a bookshop.

'Very much so. Won't everyone be wondering why the manager suddenly started taking his lowly colleague out for lunch?'

'That's for them to gossip about. All you need to do is accompany me.'

'I still don't want them finding out.' She typed indignantly.

'Your wish is my command. I'm sure not everyone will find it surprising that we happen to both be taking lunch elsewhere. Haven't they got anything better to do?'

'I don't think they would after all the work you've administered us.'

'You got me, Oswald. Now, are you coming?'

She glanced up at the clock, which indeed read precisely 1 o'clock. She swivelled around in her chair to face his office, just making him out from behind the blinds, taking his frock coat and whirling it round himself dramatically.

She decided to wait until he was in the lift and everyone was occupied with the espresso machine to collect her bag and coat and walk out too, but she didn't get far anyway. River stopped her in her tracks.

'Don't you want a cup of tea, Clara?' She asked. She might have known someone would have spotted her unusual absence from the boiling kettle and tea bags that dominated her lunchtimes most days, and it seemed the ritual was already sorely missed.

'Uh, no, I'm afraid not today. I'm meeting someone for lunch.' She explained. She glimpsed Rose evidently eavesdropping from behind River and knew she would think her new "friend" was the reason for her uncommonly whimsical smiles too.

Clara quickly shuffled past to avoid anymore annoyances and made it out of the building, where John was waiting for her leant against the wall and sporting a smile.

'It didn't take much, did it?' He asked mockingly, as they began to walk out of the car park.

'What didn't?'

'Grabbing lunch with me.'

'I was just playing.' She said defensively.

'A part of me doesn't see any reason why we shouldn't just let this whole thing be known.'

She sighed. 'Shock leads to gossip, gossip leads to Facebook, Facebook leads to friends finding out, and inevitably my family, where my father would learn pretty quickly I was seeing a guy double my age.'

'It's all so complicated nowadays. All this Facebook and twittering and tumbling, doesn't anybody actually sit down and talk anymore?'

'Rarely. But anyway, enough about all this work and gossip shit. I need my chips and coffee, as promised.'

He smiled, and Clara leaned slightly against them as they walked, very self conscious of the fact she could be judged at any second for displaying any signs of affection to her senior boyfriend. She could tell John was bristling with an urge to take her hand but neither of them did. Yet Clara gently brushed his fingers with hers, momentarily taking his ring finger as a small sign of reassuring tenderness, to which his mouth twitched at. They queued for an immeasurable amount of time at a fish and chip stand, where Clare felt more comfortable cosying up to him with a limited amount of attention. Her head was placed just below his heart, where she could still make out the beats. His arms momentarily closed around her as rain started pouring heavily but withdrew cautiously once a bigger crowd joined the queue.

'Hey,' he said, watching her as she took out her purse, 'I'm paying.' He told her adamantly.

'You paid for the McDonalds last time. I'll pay for this.' She answered just as stubbornly.

'I was the one that sent you a message saying "Chips and coffee." It was my intention to pay all along, Clara.'

'Yes, but I never really paid you back, so-'

'Clara!' He said playfully.

'John-' she hissed, when he gave the money to the woman standing patiently for their argument to cease.

He handed her her food and coffee with a triumphant smile, and she wondered if they would ever stop playing games with each other like this. As if every single thing they did was a battle for either one to try and win. Clara thought that she had never met someone so similar to herself, and so understanding too. They settled on a park bench further up a hill, where practically no one could see them. It was then that John put his arm round her and she was grateful for his warmth, and for the relief of being able to show the signs of affection they'd clearly been avoiding. The cold was bitingly harsh, but the coffee soon warmed her insides, along with John's body heat she revelled in. She sighed peacefully, reminding herself of how they yearned for every moment they got alone together. Clara had only just realised how weird it felt to be there in his arms when only a week ago she had tried (still) to leave. And then to fall prey to him, his charms, his kiss. It had been like a wake up call. And although Clara rarely took anyone seriously, for once she was serious about him. In the unusual silence she felt as if he was thinking the exact same things as she was, but didn't press for any confirmation. Instead he pressed a kiss to her hair, lingering a moment before he resumed to eating.

'I wish it didn't have to be like this.' She said.

There was a pause between them in which she could almost hear his confusion from the whirring of his brain.

'Like what?' He said softly.

'That ageism is a thing in this world. An unnecessary thing.'

'Oh, Clara, you don't need to bring this up again. As long as your happy with me, that's enough. I'm sorry if I keep trying to expose us too much, I'm just...I haven't had someone in years.'

'Are you happy?' She turned on him suddenly, and his penetrating stare gave her chills.

'Why wouldn't I be?' He said, smiling tenderly. All of him in that second seemed to sing to her heart, his wild and windswept curls still damp from rain, his eyebrows never short of intimidating but intense and fixed, his thin lips pursed as if repressing something he wanted to let out, his pale blue eyes striking and hypnotic, so much so she felt herself falling into them, and she felt tingly all over her body with sudden devotion. She leant slowly in first, but he met her halfway, and his mouth was on hers. Although her eyes were tight shut it was as if she could see his face again, as clearly as she had seen it just seconds ago. His kiss was so much more passionate and fiery than his heated one was, his lips burning hers so deliciously and his tongue brushing lightly over her own, in ways that made her dizzy. She leaned into him further even though the both of them were soaking wet from rain and bound to end up mercilessly shivering but that didn't matter as she cupped his cheek. She didn't care for anything or anyone in that moment, couldn't even remember her own name as he kissed her. Her fingers threaded through his hair, his wet curls starting to flatten from the weather and the crush of her hands. He withdrew suddenly, and when Clara opened her eyes she had to suppress a giggle. She had leant into him so far he was dangerously close to falling off the bench. The remainder of their chips were littered on the grass where a circle of pigeons had already gathered. When he readjusted himself she looped her arms round his upper waist, through his layers of frock coat and suit jacket to his shirt underneath still partially see-through and soggy, but she didn't mind as she nuzzled her face into his chest, breathing in his scent. After a while John enclosed his arms around her, and they didn't say anything at all while time surely passed. To her it was just them on the bench, and nothing else in the world could distract them. As she closed her eyes she started to imagine a future, their future, what could happen, what could not. For some reason it felt strange not to imagine him there, as if he'd just become so permanent in her life he could never slip away. Clara was confused at the strong feelings she felt that to her, came out of nowhere. She had nearly even fallen asleep against him, so comfortably positioned it alarmed her when he stirred beneath her, and from her head he had gently stroked his hand disappeared. She looked up at him as he made a face while observing his watch.

'We should get back to work now.' He said heavily. She had no idea how the time had gone so quickly, but knew that it didn't seem as if they had been there for a whole hour. She gently lifted herself off him, knowing she could have stayed in that position with him forever.

'Now, you do know that you'll have to actually do some work this time. You happen to be the lowest performer in the team at the moment.'

'Hang on, that's not strictly fair. Whenever I try to complete work you're always messaging me which makes me distracted from it.'

'Well, if you are doing important work and I distract you, you now have permission to ignore me.'

'Not likely, you'll probably go crazy and start shouting again.'

'True.' He chuckled.

Her hands were becoming rapidly cold and all she wanted to do was hold his. She bravely laced her fingers with his, uncaring if anyone happened to see. Eventually he gripped hers back, first unsure but then certain. They walked confidently like that until they reached the car park, and suddenly his hand tore free of hers. Clara felt unfair disappointment at what they could and couldn't do. It wasn't that she didn't want to show affection to him in public, it was the social stigma that would surely come along with it. She didn't think she could deal with any of that. And even if it didn't, it was always that possibility, a kind of danger, even, that didn't make her feel safe or respected out and about with a boyfriend so very different from what society expected of her. John went in first, insisting that a boss shouldn't be late, as it would be hypocritical and hell for him if challenged. A few minutes later she was walking to her desk, yet John managed to mockingly admonish her for "being late." Now left alone, she did as he suggested and got back to work, not being distracted as promised so she could get a good amount done.

'Hi.' John said, and Clara shook her head at the screen reproachfully before replying to his message.

'I thought you wanted me to get to work?'

'Well, yes, but I wanted to ask you something.'

'What if I ignore you? You gave me permission to do so.'

'Yeah, well, you were right. I'm going crazy. I just wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to go out somewhere, or come home with me after work?' She couldn't help the grinning that spanned her lips. This was John Smith asking her round! Oh, the amount of time he would have spent deliberating whether or not to invite her to his house was hilarious to Clara, likely because he was now majorly regretting it. Even he knew that he wasn't so much the boss in the relationship as he was in the office. She did however take a moment just to admire his sweetness and bravery.

'Get on working, Clara!' A voice called, which she identified as Rose. It took her a second to realise she didn't take it seriously and was in fact smiling at her.

'I am working.' She muttered.

'Who is it, huh?' She asked.

'No one.'

'Oh, come on, Clara, you can tell me!' She reached for her computer to turn it around and Clara quickly shut down the private chat before she looked.

'Who is it?' She said, nudging her.

Clara couldn't come up with something original on the spot, so all she uttered was, 'he just asked me round his house.'

Rose gasped, clearly happy she had made her talk. She turned to Clara, all eyes and ears, waiting for more information. 'Who is he? It's not the manager is it, John?' She teased. Clara remembered the last time when Rose hadn't been convinced of her liking him. She had to make something up.

She phrased her words as carefully as she could in her head but couldn't help her mouth talking of her own accord. 'He's a, um, a doctor.'

'A doctor?'

'Yep.'

'And you saw him for lunch today, didn't you?'

She nodded.

'What's his name?'

'John.'

'Unique name, isn't it?' She said, jerking her head to the door of John Smith's office.

'Not manager John, Rose.' She reassured her, making sure the message was clear.

'Right, got it. Doctor John.'

Clara nodded and smiled, but a flood of sadness she hadn't felt for a while and had managed to block out over time washed over her again in painful nostalgia. Doctors, debts, John...

'Oh well, happy for you.' Rose said, winking at her before turning back to her computer.

Clara gave herself a minute to bring her breathing back to normal, and turned back to her own screen. She was about to reply when she remembered that she had arranged to meet her dad that night. She knew she couldn't cancel him so soon but also wanted very badly to be with John. She was torn completely but ultimately decided that she could do both. She had enough time.

'My dad's round tonight, but I can make it to a pub for an hour or so.'

She sat biting her thumb, hoping that it was enough for him as it was for her.

'Yeah fine, okay.'

She smiled. Now all she had to do was get through another hour and then she could go out with John. But only a little while. She made sure that she wouldn't forget and carried on working. Soon enough, everyone was leaving.

'To the pub, then?' He asked, wrapping a scarf round his neck.

'Yep.'

They walked arm in arm to a pub just a few streets over, Clara still trying to remind herself not to forget, and not to get drunk. She knew how she could be.

'You know,' John said as they walked in, 'I haven't been in a pub for ages. I don't know why.'

'Well, then, let me buy you your first drink.' She knew he was about to open his mouth to protest but she soon spoke over him. 'Shut up.'

'I'll be getting the next round!' He called.

'Fine.' She winked at him.

Clara and John were sat outside while the sky turned darker, and Clara didn't think she could ever feel so peaceful in all her life as she did in that moment. Her head was slightly spinning but that was no problem. She was leant against his shoulder, both of them looking up at the stars appearing one by one.

She jumped violently at the sound of her phone buzzing in her pocket, instantly breaking through their trances and the drink which had she had been holding smashed shatteringly to the floor. She took it out and saw her dad calling. And then it all came back to her in an instant through all the alcohol she'd consumed.

'Fuck. I forgot about dad.' She muttered, checking the time, thankfully only ten minutes later than the time she was supposed to have met him. Clara needed to get back to her flat, but driving was out of the option. Both of them were pissed enough not even to know how to walk. Her mind however, decided to return to it's loopy state, and, downing the rather large amount of lager in her pint glass she stood up determinedly. The drink itself had already started to relax her more about the situation than she probably would have normally.

'We're gonna have to run.' She said, beginning to jog shakily out of the pub garden.

'Clara, you're too drunk to-'

'Don't worry! It's fine!' She called, laughing almost. She waited until he caught up with her, giggling at his ridiculous penguin run and taking his hand before he could catch his breath to pull him alongside her. And because she wasn't her normal self, she was enjoying running down the street with the air of someone being let free from a prison cell, smiling and laughing at everything she saw, especially the man beside her who was only just keeping pace.

It began to rain and Clara still ran, barely noticing the droplets pouring down on her, yet John saw what was coming before it did. A puddle had gathered exactly where Clara was running toward, although she wasn't aware of anything around her and slipped violently on it. She was about to hit the ground when he dashed to her as fast as he was able and caught her just in time, her eyes closed and laughing hysterically with so much passion it made him smile down at her in this inebriated state, so overcome with fondness for the woman who was still in his arms that he couldn't help but let his lips collide with hers while the rain poured still, washing over them yet completely oblivious to it. Her arms wrapped round his neck, still clinging onto him from lack of balance and almost swaying on the spot. He withdrew before they both went tumbling to the ground, and straightened her up. She was still laughing breathlessly, a twinkle in her soft, brown eyes that looked even prettier in the cast of the light from the street lamp.

'You can't run all the way to your flat. It's what I was trying to tell you, Clara,' he said, unable to keep a straight face at the way she giggled. 'It's too far. I'll call a taxi.'

She nodded slowly, still happy with the world even though she was still in a hurry to get home. Finally he managed to flag down a taxi and together they both got in it. Realising that Clara didn't want her father to know of his existence, he told the driver to take him home after her. He managed to get caught up in her once again however, yielding to her sloppy kisses that he could hardly resist while still conscious of the fact that they were in the backseat of a taxi. Her hands were everywhere on him all at once and John, while certainly in want of what she was giving him, refrained in fear of pissing the driver off. When it parked at the block of flats she lived in he found his arm being pulled sharply and suddenly he was being dragged out of the car.

'Clara!' He said, 'I thought you said you're dad would be here.'

'Don't worry about him,' she slurred, 'I wanna spend the night with you.' She said, taking him by the shirt collar and pulling him down to her, kissing him again but more forcefully, dominating, and he could hardly tear himself away but soon it came to him that he was supposed to be going home.

Before he could detach himself from her and climb back inside the car it had driven off and John stared disbelievingly at the vehicle now disappearing down the road.

'You're more drunk than I thought.' He grimaced, knowing that if Clara had been sober she wouldn't have let him anywhere near her flat if it meant members of her family were inside. He was also mostly confident that the alcohol was surely speaking for her yet still the prospect of staying the night round Clara's made him feel an unexplainable heat from within and a surge of nerves knotting his stomach. But while he himself was in a similar state of being reckless considering the amount of alcohol he had had, he was quickly trying to control it.

'Clara!' He called, running after her as she was already prancing up to the building. 'Your dad's at home!'

'No, he won't be there its fine I promise.' She told him, all in a rush.

'Are you sure?'

'Yeah I texted him, he's left.'

She stopped for a moment, turning to face him and as she did so he felt chills run down his spine that had nothing to do with his rain soaked body.

'I guess I'll have to call another taxi.'

'Or you could just stay the night here.' She suggested again.

He deliberated, knowing that on the one hand as they were both fairly intoxicated, Clara would persuade him to get into her bed, and if it came to it he wasn't sure he could pull back. He hadn't been in somebody else's bed in years and just the thought of it made him twitch down south. Would it be wrong to have sex with Clara? Would it be taking advantage of her? Something he'd regret? After all, they had known each other for months, not years. He decided that maybe he would sleep on the sofa if she insisted on making him stay. As much as he would very much want to jump into Clara's bed he was fairly sure they should be sensible about it. Anyway, would she even want to with him? These thoughts raced round his mind but the pause had only elapsed for a second. She half smiled crookedly, taking his hand and leading him toward the building. As the lift was out of order they went up the stairs until Clara stopped outside her flat, opened it, and suddenly flung herself onto him to catch his lips again, and John was so wrapped up in her he wasn't even aware of the light already on inside, just the taste of Clara's lips on his own, the way her body melded into his and her hands wandering all over the place. Maybe if it did inevitably come to it he wouldn't protest if she lead him to her bed. She walked backward and into the door, still preoccupied with kissing, and both of them stumbled forward into her living room. John kicked the door shut behind him and was starting to lower her down onto the sofa when a horrified voice interrupted them.

'Clara!?'

They immediately broke apart, John's eyes going wide at the man standing before them, looking like he might faint. He was around the same age as himself, maybe slightly younger though nearly balding, but there was no mistake of knowing he was Clara's father. He only just realised his hand was settled on a rather inappropriate place on Clara's body and let go while straightening her up. John tried to hide the fact he was already half hard but the situation was already just as awkward as they all stared at each other in shock.

'Who the fuck is this?' He suddenly bellowed.

'Uh, dad, this is my uhm, boss from work, John Smith.'

David Oswald looked as if he was about to turn into a fire breathing dragon.

'And why did he have his hands all over you?!'

'We got...we got drunk.'

'I can see that!' He yelled, 'how dare you make off with my daughter! Drunk or otherwise, you're clearly older than her, probably older than me! How dare you take advantage of her! Get out now!'

'No, no, dad, don't. He's my friend.'

'Clara, what are you thinking?! You're clearly drunk!'

'I sent you a message telling you to go home!'

'Actually, you sent 'plass go ham.' I knew you would probably be drunk so I thought better to wait, and-' his eyes averted to John, 'why the fuck are you still here?! I told you, get out!'

John tried to move but Clara took hold of his shirt, obviously wanting him to stay. He couldn't think of anything worse in all his years of living than the situation he was currently in. All he could do was stand there silently and edge slowly to the door without either noticing.

'Dad, you should go! John's staying here.'

'No, he's old enough to be your father!'

'Yes, I'd rather noticed that!'

'So what were you doing all kissing him?!' He scrunched his face in disgust, looking at John with a detestation even he hadn't seen in his life before.

'Because I like to!' Clara raged, her eyes matches sparking to flame.

There was an eerie silence until David Oswald decided to speak again, and his calmness was just as unbearable as his shouting had been.

'You,' he addressed him, his eyes not even turning to face John, his voice dripping with hate, 'go, now. I'm not going to ask again. Clara, you and I are going to have a chat, drunk or not.'

With a half glance at Clara he reached for the doorknob and gladly let himself out, feeling dirty and disgusted with himself just by the way Dave had addressed the pair of them. He stepped outside on to the balcony and leaned over the railings, reflecting on how the night had changed so dramatically since they had been laughing and dancing and kissing on the street up until those last few minutes of unadulterated horror. He couldn't help but keep thinking, he was actually going to have spent the night there if Dave hadn't caught them. He would have still been on that sofa with her, wrapped up in all her shining glory, concern only for how far they would go. He wondered briefly how far it could have gone before his sense of responsibility had kicked in. He thought of waking up to a sleeping Clara the next morning, wrapped around him lazily in the sheets, still a little breathless from the night's activities but laughing carelessly about their drunkenness. He bowed his head in regret and shame and want and guilt. Why did he ever have to lay eyes on Clara Oswald? Why did the universe have to give her feelings for him in turn rather than what it should've been, just mutual hatred? Why couldn't he just find someone his own bloody age?! Why did he have to develop such irresistible feelings for her, why did she have to like him back too?

All this whirled around his head and he took a sharp intake of breath as he finally looked up yo the stars. Staring for a moment and wishing pathetically on the brightest one he saw, he trailed miserably down the stairs of the block of flats, back out onto the main high street, all the while thinking about what Clara's father was going to say to her. After all, she was far from the little girl Dave surely would have known and well within her rights to be intimate in a relationship if she wished, but that didn't stop the fact that she was being intimate with not only her boss, but someone considerably older than her and how Dave might perceive that relationship. John was pretty sure himself that the only reason he wouldn't get others involved was because he was paying Clara her salary. What would he tell her, to stay away from him? It seemed stupidly cliche but not too impossible. He took a frustrated deep breath and cradled his head in his hands, stopping at the side of the road to flag down another taxi. This time getting in it alone, without the warm touch of her hands on his body or the yielding persistence of her mouth on his, taking control of every movement, extracting more heat than a burning fire would to keep him warm. And that was exactly the first thing he did notice after successfully slowing a taxi down, climbing down into it and shivering with cold without her presence. He stared blankly out of the window the whole time, never really registering anything he saw but still replaying the crazy whirlwind of events that evening, thinking of all the 'what's-ifs', and in extension thinking about how disgusting and creepy he was to think of her in such ways. John was fast beginning to understand why Clara was so paranoid being in public with him all the time, or letting anyone find out about them. It could ruin their relationship, make them feel wrong and out of place in this sickeningly conventional society if theirs and drive them apart. He knew he never wanted Clara to feel like she was wrong as a person for so much as a second, and selfishly wanted them to stay together too. It was completely baffling to him how one small kiss had lead to such a big change in their feelings for one another that now neither one wanted to be alone. In that moment, John almost felt despair. The same kind that had last occurred the day he got his news...

He shook his head, letting himself block out the onslaught of particular memories that had immediately resurfaced. At that convenient moment the taxi shook shakily as the gravel crunched beneath the wheels and John readjusted his eyes to recognise the house and the gravel driveway. It looked empty without his car there resting in its usual spot but he'd left it in the publishers car park before going out with Clara. He was probably meant to have picked it up. The second thing he noticed was that all the lights were on, including Missy's bedroom window.

'Shit.' He cursed silently, suddenly mindful of how late it was and how bad Missy's tempers could get. Nevertheless he jumped out from the car and began opening up his wallet just as the front door opened and his sister stood there with her arms crossed.

'Missus?' The driver asked as John handed him a five pound note.

'No, sister.' He said, unable to take his eyes off her furious form.

'Even worse. Good luck, mate.' He answered, handing John his change and promptly driving away. John began walking towards the door with his head hung low as if he was a little boy again walking to his punishment. Missy didn't say anything as he stepped past her and over the threshold but followed him with the intensity of her stare. It was only when she'd slammed the door shut and he'd settled on the sofa that she started shouting accusingly at him.

'Do you ever pick up your cell phone?!'

John instantly grimaced at the use of her American terminology. She had in fact been living there five years prior to being sent back here because of him and ever since had annoyed him greatly at some of the things she'd say.

In this instance however, he said nothing but tasked himself of untying his shoelaces so he wouldn't have to be directly faced with her.

'John?' She demanded. He sighed.

'I was with someone.' He relented.

'And where's the car?' She asked strictly, still standing in the doorway like she couldn't bear to be in the same room as him.

'Back at work.'

'Where did you go? Who with? Was it that mysterious lady of yours?'

He easily grew irritated at the mention and memory of Clara, which worsened his temper. 'Can you stop asking me twenty one questions and just let me rest?! I've had a long, and very tiring day.'

'John, you're my little brother and I just want to make sure you didn't do anything stupidly reckless or brash to harm yourself!'

'I'm 58 years old Missy, I think I can handle myself!' He roared.

'Well, you obviously can't, because by the looks of things you seem to be annoyed and angry about something more than usual!'

She finally stepped closer to him, looking down at his bloodshot eyes weighted down by heavy eyelids and the faint but still distinctive smell of stale alcohol on his breath. John knew as soon as she herself realised and closed his eyes in exasperation.

'You've been drinking! You've been out in a pub drinking! How much did you have, John?'

'Not an impressively incredible amount, I assure you.'

'Don't try and be clever, John, I've got to know how much you drank!'

He didn't reply but stared at the wall behind her with a surly expression.

'I can't bloody believe you! Do you not care for yourself at all?!' She shrieked.

'Honestly, I didn't drink enough that I could drop dead to the floor!'

'This is important though, you don't seem to understand that you can't just do something and think it will be fine, this is serious!'

Her hands were now resting on her hips, her gaze impenetrable.

'Missy,' he sighed, 'it was fine, I'm fine.'

'You're not fooling me. Who were you with?'

'Now you're just being nosy.'

'Yes, and I have every right to be.'

'Just a friend.'

'Who is she?'

John didn't even bother denying it was a girl. Missy would find out the truth one way or another. Sitting there in the uncomfortable heat from the pressure of Missy's eyes John thought for the umpteenth time what he could have been doing round Clara's at that very moment, or rather, what he could be doing to her. There was the scrunched knot of pain in his chest that wasn't in any way affiliated with the alcohol and John found it hard not to buckle.

'A work colleague.'

'And you went to the pub...just with her?'

'Yes.' He said breathlessly. He was beginning to feel like he was in an interrogation. But he knew that wasn't an uncommon feeling when being around Missy.

'And then where did you go?' She asked sceptically. John folded his arms stubbornly, frowning.

'How would you know if we went anywhere else?'

'Because a) you could have collected your car after as the pub is literally round the corner from the publishers, b) you were both drunk and c), you like this woman. A lot. I could tell that from the first time I asked about her, and don't try lie to me.'

'How do you know it's even the same woman?'

'Because I know you, John,' she cackled. 'You haven't dated in ages, you've only ever had a fiancée before and a pet cat. Whoever this girl is she's got you hooked well and fine.'

He had the sudden strange urge to tell her everything that had happened, even if it would end up with a scold and a smack for being so stupid. It just felt like he needed an extra opinion, someone who would understand just a little and maybe even comfort him in thinking he's worth Clara's attention. However it didn't prove long for Missy to connect the dots anyway.

'You obviously went back to her house then.' She said coldly. John wished the earth would give way from beneath him and he could fall straight into hell if it meant having this conversation.

It's that guilty look in your eye, John, I can tell that that's where you went.'

'Yes.' he consigned heavily.

'What did you do?' She asked after a moments pause, surprisingly softly.

He raised his eye up at her for a second, deliberating then to tell the truth or some lie. He knew however that it would get the better of him in time and Missy was the only family he had. He took a starting breath.

'We were both drunk.' He explained, to Missy's still razor sharp gaze of disapproval, 'Clara more so than me.'

'Clara?' She interrupted, raising her eyebrows at him, probably trying to picture a woman in her head. One that he doubted took such a description as Clara. One that was probably as old as him and much more safer.

'She started to run home, so I followed her obviously, wanted to make sure she didn't hurt herself.' His mind wandered back to that moment he had caught her from slipping, seeing so many tiny worlds inside her eyes light up when she looked at him, how her lips had felt on his in the coldness of the rain, the streetlight adding to the effect of a blazing orange glow in the darkness. He could almost feel it again.

'John?' Missy barked, snapping him out of his daydreams, 'when you say run, do you mean that you literally had to run after her?'

He knew where this was leading so didn't even bother to say otherwise. Missy sighed heavily in frustration. 'John, you know you shouldn't exert yourself! You're not fit enough to do so, I swear, if you-'

'I'm not frail!' He shouted, in an outburst that caught Missy off guard. Anger sweltered inside him, travelling to his head that he could feel burning. It happened all too often these days, especially since he had started work, all the pressure from the job weighted upon his shoulders slowly starting to invade his private life too.

'John, all I'm doing is caring. You know why I'm angry about this, drinking larger amounts than you should do, bloody running with women to their houses, you're not in your twenties anymore, you're not healthy and you don't care about yourself so it's me that has to worry! Just be more responsible!'

'Well, if you care maybe you could start to actually listen to me for once instead of going on and on!'

He looked down at his feet, and suddenly recognising how damaged he actually felt she sat down next to him for the first time, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

'Carry on, then. I promise I won't interrupt.'

Finally, he had her attention, and he tried to ignore the fact that it took just one look at his face for Missy to see that there was something bothering him.

'I called a taxi to drive to her flat, and when we got there Clara insisted I...' He could hardly make out the words, mostly from a mixture of embarrassment and sadness.

'She wanted me to stay the night,' he finished, his words coming out all at once and his ears turning red. If it wasn't for the fact that he was so angry Missy would have laughed at that moment. He felt grateful that she kept it in, but equally still humiliated when she didn't say anything else.

'I couldn't help myself from agreeing and we went up to her flat and she started to kiss me and then we heard a man's voice and it was her father.' He rumbled on, trying to skirt over as much detail as he could but still managing to extract a gasp from Missy.

'Her father? Clara's father?'

'Yes. He shouted at me to get out and now I'm just terrified that Clara will stay away from me but that can't happen because I'm...' His voice started to become thick, his heart started hammering as fast as an athlete's. 'I like her too much.'

And suddenly he felt like a stupid lovesick teenager who was overly worried about not seeing his girlfriend again and it felt exactly like that in his heart. Why he was already so invested in Clara Oswald he would never know but all he could focus on was how much he'd miss her if Dave managed to make her come to her senses and stay away from him. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand it.

'Oh John, you've always had too sensitive a heart. So what if he caught you? That's not something to beat yourself up over! It's nothing you should feel angry about, embarrassed, yes, awkward, yes, but It's not like you-' she stopped dead in the middle of her sentence, her eyes wide. John didn't look up from the floor long enough to give her denial or confirmation.

'How old is her father? How old is she?' And there it was, the question he had been dreading answering all night. He had tried to prolong it as much as he could but knew that it would certainly become inevitable. His silence said most of it but not enough.

'John, how old is Clara?' She repeated, almost bursting from not knowing this information.

He cleared his throat, but it didn't help with the gruffness of his voice nor his confidence.

'30.' He said quietly.

Missy stared at him until his answer got the better of her. 'Fuck, John! Jesus Christ! What in hell do you think you're doing with a woman almost thirty years younger than yourself?!'

'I don't...I don't know.' It was probably the most honest thing he had said all night, because he didn't know at all. He couldn't even understand how or why. All he knew was that as soon as she had kissed him in his office he couldn't leave her alone.

'I understand now why you're so anxious. How the fuck are you going to explain that?'

'I was rather hoping not to.' He said stiffly.

'Well, someone had to find out soon enough, didn't they? Just absolutely great that it had to be her father, of all people!'

'You're angry.' He noted.

'Well, yes of course I am! I don't know how you can get out of this! Do you really, honestly like her?'

'Yeah, I do. A lot.'

'And she really likes you too?' She said, her voice calming just a fraction.

'Not after tonight she won't.'

'You can't be sure of that. She's an adult, at least, but her dad's going to take ages to convince. He must be fucking furious!'

'Yeah, he was.'

Missy reclined back into the sofa with a sigh, and John felt like he'd made the biggest but most beautiful mistake on earth. After a full minute of silence and comprehension of the situation, Missy grabbed his hands and turned his face to hers. 'You are a good man, John, and she recognised that. After all these years of being alone you do deserve someone. And even if you're miles apart from each other in age I'm sure your love for one another outweighs that. It will be exceedingly hard to ever win her father's approval but if Clara likes you as much as you think she does then when it comes down to it, age won't matter. She'll choose you for who you are, and not for anything else.'

John couldn't remember the last time he thought Missy had said something so wise and comforting, but it gave him huge flashbacks to when they were little, having cared for him when he hurt himself as a toddler, and when she used to give him sweets to take away the pain.

'Do you want a hug?' She asked softly, seeing him rock back and forth while biting his thumbnail, so caught up in all their past memories. He only ever had Missy to rely on as an older sister, their parents having passed away when they were only very little. And even though most times he hated her more than he loved her, the fact she asked him made him all the more dependant on her support. He awkwardly leaned into her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not too tight but not too soft, and John was finding it almost alien. The last time they had hugged he couldn't remember and this made him feel once again like he was a small child being cradled by his big sister, who protected him from everything that came to harm. Being Smith's and incredibly awkward to touch it didn't last long but John felt the tiniest bit better because of it. He wasn't going to admit that readily in front of her though.

'Now, you're not going to worry anymore, because you're going straight to bed. That's an order.'

'Fine.' He said, getting up from the couch to trudge up the stairs, but not before Missy called up to him: 'if she isn't at work tomorrow, then you'll know it's bad.'

Of course it didn't help make matters better but he knew it was just Missy's way. Too much expression of love tended to make her even more spiteful sometimes. He got dressed heavily with the thought of Clara on his mind. Slipping into bed and curling up into a ball like he used to do as a child, he had never felt so endangered. From her father, from society, even from Clara herself. As he began to close his eyes he couldn't help reverting back to thinking about how he would have been in a completely different bed with the woman of his dreams had the universe not dictated an intervention.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

She had gained a sense of deep sadness when John left. After all, her dad had commanded him to leave and without him it felt as if all the energy had drained from her. Strength dwindled in the face of her father, who looked down at her with a mixture of disgust, shock and confusion. Not to mention his face burning bright red and his arms crossed uncomfortably. Clara bowed her head nostalgically as if she were a child again in exactly the same way she used to under her father's scolding. She couldn't help but feel just a tiny bit ashamed with herself. But her mothers blood also ran through her veins, with the stubbornness and notion of 'why the hell not?' protesting much more violently.

Dave was still paused and trying to create an impression that she might have been intimidated by if she had been younger.

Finally: 'who is he?'

It was a calming start, but Clara would've personally preferred if he had shouted. At least then she could've released some of the repression she had felt slowly building up inside. What was more, she knew that he would definitely not like the answer. John being her boss exacerbated the situation completely.

'He's John. John Smith.' She couldn't suppress the small smile, but then serious, 'he's my boss.'

Although an excellent liar she understood that lying to her dad would be the worst thing she could do. After all, there wasn't much that she could really lie about.

He sighed a word that sounded obscene but she couldn't be sure.

'Clara-'

'No, before you say or mutter anything else, I am well within my right to do whatever I want because I am not a child anymore. I might have been drunk and fairly engaged with another man but I am capable of making my own choices.'

'And I don't doubt that, Clara, just...jesus, he's older than me!'

'I know that!'

'So what, you have some old guy fetish now?!'

'Ugh dad, please-'

'How do you know he's not using you?' He said, his voice strained.

She stopped in her tracks, opening her mouth a few times to emit a response but coming up short. The terrifying truth was that she didn't know at all. John was so unpredictable with his mood sometimes, never consistent. But she remembered the way he smiled at her, the way his eyes seemed to shine in the reflection of a cast light, the way his hands fit together with hers perfectly.

'Because I know John. And I know he wouldn't do that.'

'Clara, are you sure?' He had sensed her hesitation. He was looking vastly unsure himself.

'Yes.' She said firmly.

He ran a hand over his face, staring blankly at the wall. Clara waited, unknowing of what to say or do.

'Why do you always choose the damaging relationships?' He muttered quietly.

Clara froze. Her eyes widened, her mouth was agape. She couldn't think straight in her shock, and Dave soon realised this. Taking one look at her face he melted, immediately remorseful.

'Clara-'

She took a step backward when he tried to come near her, still trying to comprehend why and how he could say that to her. He knew what she'd been through. He knew it had never left her. Did it matter if she attracted a certain type of man?

'How-how dare you.' Her voice shook, unable to see through her sudden anger.

'Obviously I didn't mean it, I just don't know how you can like him, and the name John-' 'No.' She warned, trying to maintain at least a small part of her dignity.

'Well, I don't know what you'd expect! Did you think I'd approve?'

'For the record, Dad, I don't care if you approve. I'm not a 15 year old girl anymore and I wasn't exactly planning on telling you anyway!'

'You don't understand what you're getting into here Clara, he's thirty years older than you! He's probably got loads to hide from you, you've no idea what he wants! And even if he stays with you long enough without breaking your heart do you really want to see him die before you've properly lived?' His tone became sombrely reminiscent, 'you've had enough death in your lifetime to deal with, Clara.'

She could hardly believe it was her father's voice saying those words to her. Why was he being so incredibly harsh to her? He couldn't control who she liked or who she settled down with. He couldn't change what happened in the past. But there was no foreseeing his future. For the first time Clara wondered what would happen if he did leave her before they'd even had a chance. She hadn't looked that far or worried about that yet, but one thing was for sure, she knew that it would break her. Whether they were together or not, she had decided that her feelings were strong enough that it couldn't matter. Her voice didn't construct any sentence or word that would convey how she felt.

'When do you start your job at Coal Hill?'

The change of topic managed to jolt her from the deep musings she had succumbed to.

'In six months.'

'Can you change that?'

'What? No, I'm starting next year.'

'Can you start this year?'

She groaned. 'If you're hoping I quit my job at the publishers it's not going to happen.'

'You need to stay away from John. This relationship...its not healthy. It's not right.'

'Not right?! We're not in the 70's anymore, Dad! Today's society is so much more accepting than yours ever was. It's not as if he's ancient, or a bad man.'

'I just want you to be safe, you didn't just think everybody would accept that you were with an older man, did you?'

'Of course I didn't, that's why I haven't told anyone.'

'Not even Amy?' He looked surprised.

'No.'

'Well, I'm still completely shocked with you. I'm just...what are you thinking?'

'Can I help who I fall in love with?!' She burst, now so agitated that everything caught up with her and she found herself shouting.

'You can't be with him!' Now he was shouting too, and Clara felt more distress than she had felt in a long time.

'The hell I am!' She retorted, stepping closer, trying to get across that she was adamant.

'I'm only thinking of you!'

'If you cared that much John's age wouldn't even matter to you!'

Overcome with rage she could hardly stand to look at her father, couldn't even be in the same room.

'Just get out of my flat.' She said venomously, before marching straight to her bedroom. She fell straight onto her bed with a thump, throwing her clothes off until she was wearing only vest and pants and curled up in bed, hearing the slam of the door resound in her ears mournfully. She was alone. And it killed her inside when she thought about how John should have been wrapped around her at this moment, asleep on her shoulder, body pressed to hers. What seemed to have begun as a lucky night had turned out to be a fool's gold.

It was just as she had expected, and feared. When she entered the office it had seemed emptier than it should have been, and that was never a good sign. She scanned her eyes around the room, hoping to find him somewhere as he usually was but he'd shut himself out. He was just visible through the curtains of his office and Clara felt as if he was avoiding her, avoiding everyone, for a reason. A reason of embarrassment and shame and humiliation. Clara needed to tell him otherwise. She needed to speak with him even if it was the last thing she ever said to him. All she wanted was to fix whatever was going through his head. She slumped down in her chair, collecting up the courage she had left to walk straight into his office. Yet when she went over River tapped her on the shoulder.

'No one's allowed in there today. I don't know why, but he said he's extremely busy.'

Her face immediately fell, which River raised her eyebrows at. She was just the sort of person she didn't want to associate herself with today. Someone bubbly, popular, full of herself. She didn't need it. And she didn't need her telling her she wasn't allowed in his office. Of course he didn't want to see anyone. But she was going to make sure he did.

'Hey, Clara. You alright?' Someone stopped in front of her face, looking at least a tiny bit concerned. She had no idea what she looked like but she assumed it was worse if her colleagues were noticing her disappointment. She blinked a few times, making out the face more clearly. It was Danny. She smiled, albeit weakly. He smiled widely in return.

'Oh, I'm-I'm fine, Danny.'

'If you say so. You just looked a bit-'

'Family stuff.' She intervened, watching as his mouth formed an o.

'Oh, okay. Sorry. Are you-'

'Do you know why John's locked himself in his office?' She interrupted again, though unapologetic.

'Oh, well,' he said, baffled by her sudden question, but his face uplifted in annoyance at the mention of John, 'I don't really know. He came out shortly to tell us that he wasn't to be disturbed by anyone throughout the whole day. He's been in there ever since.'

'When did he say that?'

'At around 7ish. There wasn't many people here at the time but we've managed to notify everyone. Actually, I think he said something about focusing on meeting our target and taking a conference call. I think that's why he doesn't want anyone disturbing.'

So he didn't even have the balls to say that in front of her and he knew that she regularly arrived later than most people.

'Thanks, Danny.' She said, making her way back to her desk.

'Clara?' He called after her, 'You wouldn't want to maybe go for a drink sometime?'

Not really hearing the question she answered back quickly so he could leave her to be alone.

'Yeah, sure.' She turned her back on him while he smiled and stared blankly at her computer. Today was a day she decided she didn't want to live in. She logged on as someone tapped her on the shoulder. She wished people would stop doing that. It was Rose, smiling at her. Although she was the nicest friend anyone could have at work she still felt a bout of frustration at her exuberant smile. Why did everyone feel that they had to talk to her today?

'So, how did your date go?'

'What?'

'You know, with John.'

For a moment she was scarily confused but the next she felt like a knife had ran through her. She had told Rose she was speaking to someone else by the name of John and his image filled up her mind along with John Smith's. Maybe her father was right, maybe it was really twisted fate that everyone she met called John gave her extremely bad luck.

'Oh, it went great.' She said, uncaring of her lack of enthusiasm.

'You sure? You look really tired, Clara.'

She made the effort to smile weakly again. 'Hangover.' She replied.

Rose seemed to get the made up message and smiled knowingly, turning back to her computer. Clara sighed as she saw the small icon of John and all their messages, trying not to feel too depressed. The game wasn't over yet and she decided she would win it.

The day seemed to drag on especially slowly for her. At least she had managed a few hours of nothing but work, with no interruptions and hardly any thoughts about John in fact she tried to keep deliberately busy just so his image did t cross her mind. Why he thought it had been a good idea just to ignore her she had no idea. He was being stupid and childish and ashamed of their relationship and he had to understand that even if her father didn't like him that didn't suddenly apply to her.

When lunch arrived and everyone was busy she tried his door. It didn't open. So he'd locked it, after all. She snorted disparagingly at his peculiar methods of avoiding her. It was almost laughable. She resorted to knocking and knew that it had surprised him when there came a string of curse words and groans. He'd sounded like he'd fallen in his shock.

'John?' She inquired, annoyed he hadn't even the courtesy of opening the door, 'it's a bit obvious you're there.'

She heard silence and then the click of the lock. He opened the door slowly, his hand rubbing his unruly hair and his eyes looking anywhere but hers.

'What did you do?' She asked.

He grimaced and turned back into the room where she strictly followed.

'Banged my head.' He grunted, falling into his seat. Clara shook her head with amusement.

'I wasn't expecting you to knock.' He explained.

'And you thought hiding in here was going make you get rid of me?'

'No. I thought hiding in here would make me forget you.'

'Forget me?' She echoed, her voice tainted with hurt.

'Clara, there's no pretending that it didn't happen. I just wanted to see if you would show up or not.'

'Of course I did, John, it's work. And even though it was immensely awkward last night it wasn't like I was just going to avoid you.' She chose the word carefully, looking him straight in the eyes. He looked a tiny bit contrite.

'I assume your father wasn't very happy I was there.'

She sighed. 'Of course he wasn't. He still sees me like I'm still his innocent child. I think he's always been a bit over-protective of me ever since mum died. I was all he had until he met Linda.'

He raised his eyebrows softly at her. 'You never told me any of that.'

'It's not something I like to exploit.'

He nodded understandingly, like he was familiar with the feeling. Her dad's words consequently circled round her head. What was he hiding from her?

'Clara, I'm just scared that we might be spending too much time together.'

'Why? I'm pretty sure if two people like each other there isn't much else they can do.'

'I know that and it's why I think-'

He struggled to find words, and yet she knew what he was trying to say.

'You think that you already like me enough.' She stated.

He swallowed nervously. 'Yes. Yes, I'm scared that I'm starting to like you...a lot more than I should.' His eyes automatically swept down to the pile of papers on his desk his head bowed as he tried to sort them out. She noticed a slight tremor to his fingers and her eyes immediately softened and melted, her head drifting sideways as she stared at him.

'I feel the same way, John.' She said. 'I think I already do like you a lot more than I should.'

He finally looked up at her, blue eyes boiling into hers.

'What do we do?' He asked, the tone of his voice almost helpless. It made Clara weak at the knees and for a moment she thought she was unable to keep on standing. Instead she moved them until they hit another pair of legs, and she could feel the weight of his breathing and the staccato of his heart thumping against her own chest. She placed her hands on his shoulders, looking at him serious into his eyes.

'I can't believe you thought that my dad would have actually persuaded me to stay away from you.'

'Why wouldn't it?' He answered shakily, 'you're young and beautiful and smart and funny and what am I? I'm nothing.'

'You're something, John. Something that I like very much and nothing will stand in the way of that.'

The intensity was getting too much yet she dare not blink. He glanced swiftly at the door until his gaze settled back on her.

'What will you tell your dad?'

'Nothing. He doesn't need to know. And if he asks I'll just either say yes or no. We can decide that together if you want.'

'He'll surely be wary of me after last night, and I don't want to get caught by him again.'

'He's no doubt got video cameras set up around my flat. But it won't be an issue again, John, I promise.'

'I'm just worried that he will tell people-'

She put a finger to his lips. 'He won't. He may hate you with a passion but he wouldn't do that to me.'

'That's reassuring.' He muttered.

'Look, you either just accept it or continue ignoring me, but if you choose the latter you won't see me ever again because I'll take my resignation and go somewhere far away so you can't find me.'

He smiled. 'And where would you go?'

'I don't know, back to Blackpool I guess. Or Hawaii.'

'Hawaii?'

'Yeah, I've always wanted to go there. But it's not the sort of place to go alone.'

He laughed for the first time since last night and it felt heavenly to hear it again in his beautiful Scottish brogue. His head tilted forward until his nose was nuzzled into her shoulder and they were hugging, John swaying from side to side as if there was music playing.

When she finally managed to unentangle herself from his embrace she leaned flush against him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Clara was vaguely aware that the lunch hour was coming to a close but she couldn't find one single reason to leave him.

He stopped suddenly in the middle of his kiss, mouth going rigid against hers and his eyes slowly opening again. She leaned back and observed him, for a moment worried that he'd seen someone through the the window watching them.

'What is it?'

'Nothing, really. I just kept thinking all night, how am I worthy of you? What have I done in life, really, to deserve someone like you?'

She stood up on tiptoes to kiss him briefly. 'You shouldn't have been alone last night,' her lips touched his, 'I should have been with you, in bed. I should have woken up beside you this morning.' She sighed.

'Nothing can be done to change what happened.' He said.

'Well, maybe you should come over again. Properly stay the night this time.' She could feel him twitch as she kissed him again. All she wanted was his agreement and his body.

'Won't the place be rigged with traps?' He smirked.

'Wouldn't you like to take the risk?'

'I don't know, I really don't want to run the risk of meeting your dad twice.'

She kissed him in between her words. 'Well, if we're going to to do it, it'll have to be somewhere.'

'What about my house?'

She stopped for a second to stare up at him. 'Your house? Missy's there, isn't she?'

'Yeah but I'll persuade her to stay out for the night. She'll understand.'

'Will she?' She asked incredulously.

'Clara you have to remember, I've been single for more than thirty years. She's never been.'

Clara didn't exactly understand what he meant but didn't dwell on it any further. All she could focus on was his radiating heat and her lust, sending her mad and almost begging to be taken there and then. They didn't think twice about it as John hoisted her up and placed her on his desk, legs wrapping round him in eagerness. They weren't anywhere but together, no consideration came to them of knocking off papers and pencils in their haste, or that the office had a dozen people just outside. John undid the fly on his trousers and Clara smiled in what she knew was going to become all too real, yet a loud knock at the door disrupted their fantasy. Both staring at each other in horror he went into a state of panic.

'Hide, hide!' He said madly, picking up all the spilled items from the ground.

'Where?' She stopped at each part of the office, trying to hide best she could.

'Under the desk!' He pointed, and she obediently hid herself under it.

'I'll try and get rid of them.' He said, just before opening the door. Of all people, it was him. Danny.

'Didn't I make it very clear that I was NOT to be disturbed today, PE?' He said angrily, and Clara found his demandingly frustrated voice very gratifying, though she did feel sorry for Danny a little.

'Yes, I understand,' he answered back, with courage that mildly surprised her. Not many people had the audacity to speak back to John like that. She was one of only few of them herself, 'but it's important. It's about meeting our target. I spoke to a couple of the managers from different branches and they're willing to negotiate with you on certain things, which could mean big things for this company, so excuse me if you haven't finished your lunch yet.'

'Wow.' Clara mouthed under the desk, sneaking peaks at the both of them standing in front of "each other as if they were squaring up. Danny's face was adamant and disrespectful, while John's held anger and exasperation. For some reason she was finding it strangely erotic.

Without a word he ushered him to the desk, Danny sitting down while John did too, and swivelled his chair back as far as he could to give her space. It occurred to her that Danny wasn't going to be easy to get rid of at all, and the prospect of staying there silently under the desk for the whole time he talked seemed like God's punishment. He started off saying something which gave no meaning to her, and she could tell John was hardly paying attention. His posture was rigid in his chair and he made no comment, which was unusual for him. She was only relieved by the fact Danny couldn't see her his side, yet Clara knew it would be a painfully long time until she could be set free. She propped herself up onto her knees and listened his droning voice go in and on about books and different publishers until she was afraid she'd make too much noise by snoring. How much more did she have to endure? She thought, groaning mentally for it to end. And then her eyes followed his thick boots up to his lean legs straight and rigid, and further still to where he had forgotten about the zip of his trousers being undone. A naughty, exhilarating idea came into mind and she bit her lip from smiling evilly by it. After all, pent up desire was still mixed up inside her and it would be the most perfect comeback after what he had done to her at the meeting that she was beginning to appreciate being out of sight and out of mind. Carefully, she wriggled toward him so as not to make a sound and reached up her hand to where the zip was. She could feel him underneath, only half hard and she felt him instantly tense up at the sensation of her touch. She could just about see his fists curl up tightly as she freed him from the restraint of his pants, sliding her hand gently along his length until he was hard in her palm. She could almost hear the shallow breathing coming from him as he tried to maintain focus at whatever Danny was talking about. Oh, she was going to get him so bad. Clara took him into her mouth and instantly he jerked in his seat, surprised at the gesture. She teased him first, her tongue swirling round the tip and on the underside of his shaft, delighting in the painful pleasure he was feeling. He shivered and tensed harder, his voice even taking on a deeper, husky tone. It drove her on, his cock hot around her mouth, John eliciting a groan he quickly turned into a cough, his face no doubt as red as a tomato and his hands sweaty from holding onto his chair.

'Are-are you alright?' Danny asked when John coughed violently again to mask the sound of his arousal. Clara felt a stab of satisfaction at his embarrassment.

'Yeah, I'm fine. Just a...' Clara began to pick up her pace, her mouth sliding up and down his cock so fast it seemed like every single droplet of his blood had travelled south. All he wanted to do was hold her head in place so he could thrust inside her, and he thought about it with longing until Danny impatiently waved a hand in front of his face.

'Oh, sorry,' he grimaced, trying to control his arousal with all his might. It really, really wasn't easy. He wished on anything in the universe Danny would just go away. He moaned again, this time louder and much more suspiciously.

'I have a bad cold.' He explained weakly. He shuddered violently in sensitivity, and he could feel Danny's eyes staring into his.

'Right. Well, I'll leave you just until we've talked over these arrangements-'

'Yeah, fine, whatever.' He dismissed. He couldn't focus nor understand what Danny was on about, all he could think and feel was Clara around him, sending him extraordinarily over the edge that with another few strokes of her tongue he came and there was nothing to stop the climactic shudder that shook his whole body. He was breathless, blushing, and in blinding madness at what Clara had done. He would definitely make sure she paid for that. It made sleeping with her that night so much more desirable.

Clara swallowed around him, her hands caressed his thighs lightly until he had been itching with his orgasm. She finally tucked him back into his trousers when she heard the awkwardly unsettling silence above her and she realised that John had managed to make a noise very distant to what a sneeze sounded like.

'It's my knee,' he clarified, 'being a killer today.' John said, which amazingly didn't follow up with any opposing comment.

'Right, well-'

'Oh damn, I just realised I have this conference call I was supposed to make a few minutes ago, would you excuse me?' It wasn't a question, but an order, and Danny looked both equally outraged and annoyed at his interruption.

'Fine. I'll come back tomorrow as you're so unwell.' Danny spat mockingly, clearly pissed off and standing to collect everything he had out in front of him. Clara could hear John's shallow sigh of relief at the sight of Danny exiting the office, and a few moments later emerged from under the desk. The sight of his face, still red and tainted with ebbing arousal, couldn't faze the wild laugh that came over her as he stared at her furiously.

'What a genius way to pay you back!' She exclaimed, unable to dissipate her laughter.

'I'm so pleased it was funny for you.' He said grumpily.

'Oh, it was. Every time you groaned...' She burst into childish giggles, 'you know you're really bad at fake sneezing?' She mocked.

'When I get you home tonight I am going to pay you back so dearly you'll be on fucking crutches tomorrow.'

'That's good to know.'

His smile lightened a bit as she fell against his chest, still giggling, and he closed a hand round her. 'You can do that again, though. It would be much better if I appreciated it somewhere other than my office.'

'Tonight can't come any faster.' Clara grinned, enticing him into a kiss. He reluctantly pulled away when he realised just why Danny had been here and not eating.

'I didn't even realise it was the end of lunch,' he glanced at the clock on his wall, 'Jesus, it's been twenty minutes over!'

She kissed him again to try sidetrack him again but this time it didn't work.

'Right, Clara, make sure no one sees you. Leave in a minute so it doesn't look like you were even in here with me while PE was.'

'Why'd you call him PE?' She asked, her arms loping round his neck.

'Because he doesn't belong in an office. Look at him, he's nothing but an annoyingly strict PE teacher with impatience issues. Ex-army man too, which figures.'

'Well, I can definitely see you two don't get on.'

'No, no way in hell. Hey, Clara! Stop distracting me and get on with doing some work!' He commanded, in that voice that made her giggle more.

'I've already done you, that's enough, isn't it?'

'Some proper work.' He scolded playfully, watching her disappear through the doorway. John sank back down into his chair, rubbing the lines on his forehead and replaying the pleasurable feelings of Clara's lips on his cock, the way she kissed him after. She had done him so expertly he still felt tingles of shocks and wetness on his pulsating shaft. With his inappropriate fantasies in place he couldn't wait until he was with her in the bedroom.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

He didn't even realise he was watching her, and yet he was. Absent-minded thoughts lead him to an animated trance and he found himself staring out of the window, through the blinds where she sat, swaying slightly in her chair while she typed precariously and talked to her friend. He was looking on at her with fondness, something he had to recognise five seconds after. It had been an extraordinarily long time since he'd looked at someone that way. It had been a long time just feeling that way about someone too. And all he could do was admire her with tenderness and treat her like royalty. He was prepared to do those things and it shocked him greatly. Maybe he had long forgotten how it had felt to be young and fully in love with someone.

Even when he had to take "important and serious business-related calls" it didn't stop him from talking to her over message, smiling like an idiot. How had he fallen so far and yet in such a small space of time?

'Are you ready to go?' Her voice asked, making him jump slightly as he peered through the window curiously to watch everyone pouring out from the office and then back to her. He'd lost track of time so completely it felt earlier than usual for the working day to be at an end. She watched him while he shrugged on his frock coat, John suspiciously under the impression she was giving him a sweeping look up and down and settling on his ass. For some reason it made him nervous and just a tiny bit bashful. He didn't think he could even feel those emotions anymore. Clara took hold of him, kissing him lightly as she asked, 'anything else?'

For a second he couldn't reply, because she just looked so damn adorable in her beanie hat and scarf underneath a motorbike jacket. It was slowly getting colder and Christmas was already on the approach. He thought about spending Christmas with Clara; what it would be like, what he would get her. That thought struck him the hardest. He was clueless when it came to buying presents.

His conscious came back to him when he felt her warm hand pressed to his cheek, laughing at him.

'You're in another world, John.'

'Oh, uh, sorry.' He smiled. He glanced through the window, trying to spot anyone else still around.

'No one's here.' She said, and confidently took his hand in hers.

'Right. Let's go, then.' He couldn't deny the way his voice had a slight tremor to it. Maybe because he was anticipating everything to come? Or on edge because of what she might think of him. He shook off his worries and focused on the weight of his hand on hers and the cold night air as they left the building. John went straight over to his car yet when Clara didn't follow he turned round to see her standing round her motorbike.

'Want a ride?'

'Clara, it's freezing. My car has central heating.'

'My bike has thrill and adrenaline.' She argued.

'We really should have planned this better.' He sighed.

'Yeah. Well, I'm not leaving my bike here.'

'You don't know the way to my house.'

'Give me directions, then. I'm not leaving her here.'

He raised his eyebrows, slowly walking toward her. 'It's a she, is it?'

'Yep. Climb aboard.'

Just before he did they heard a loud ringing noise coming from his pocket. Why were they always distracted? He would firmly make sure all people and phones couldn't interrupt them tonight. He took the buzzing phone out and a rush of relief ran through him. He would have completely forgotten about ringing her back had she not rung him first. He indicated a minute to Clara and stepped backward until she couldn't hear him.

'Sorry about earlier John, I couldn't take the call because I was wound up in meetings. And you said you'd ring me back later and I knew you'd forget so I rung you.'

'Which is great, thank you. Are you going to be home tonight?'

'Where else should I be, John?'

'Well, do you think you could stay with a friend for the night?'

'John, what are you up to-'

'You've got loads of people to stay with haven't you?'

'Uh, no not really.'

'What? What happened to the guy you used to see in the city?'

'That was over a year ago now, John,' She sighed, 'you can't keep track over anything these days.'

'Well, my point still stands. Can you not come home tonight?'

'John, don't pretend that I don't know what you're on about. You're bringing Clara home, I assume.'

He couldn't lie because she would see right through that. It was always one of his worst traits.

'Yes.'

'Oh nice, I'd like to meet her, then.'

He groaned. She was doing this on purpose. 'No, not now. Maybe another time.'

'John there's no way you can have sex with a thirty-year old.'

The bluntness of her statement made him feel like she was right. He was trying to keep in the anger.

'I thought you said if she liked me its okay to like her back no matter what people say.'

'Yes but I'm not just talking about the age gap here. You know why it would be a problem.'

'Missy, for the last time, I am fine.' His voice started to raise and he swiftly tried to control it. He didn't want a shouting match.

'I'm not having you complaining about pain or over exerting yourself just from the silliness of hooking up with some woman. You're older John, you can't keep up and you know it.'

'I'll prove you wrong, then.'

'I'm not having you prove anything. You're not taking Clara home for any other purpose than to meet me. Alright?'

'You're older than me and you still flirt with other men, and stay with them for as long as you want!'

'Yes but I'm not the one with a serious condition.'

He kicked gravel underneath his shoe in fury. 'Serious condition.' He muttered.

'You're fifty-eight. She's thirty. What do you think is going to happen?'

He didn't answer because he couldn't. And he knew deep down that Missy was right, because she was always bloody right even if he didn't want her to be. His heart was still protesting however, beating with longing at the thought of being with Clara in such an intimate way. Why couldn't he just have what he wanted, for once.? Why couldn't he just take the risk anyway?

'I'm sorry, John. She means a lot to you, and this means a lot to you, I can tell. But it just can't happen.'

For the first time since taking the phone call he turned round to face Clara, who was standing there next to her bike looking confused. He stared melancholically in return, eyes full of apology as he hung up on Missy.

As he trudged forward his face said it all. 'I'm sorry.'

Her mouth quirked upward, trying to figure out why he was saying it. 'What's wrong?'

'I'm sorry.' He repeated, and leaned forward to kiss her sweetly, for as long as he could.

When he pulled away he could hardly look at her with her big, brown eyes staring up at him imploringly.

John turned away, and walked back to where his car stood.

'John? What's happened, where are you going?'

He didn't have the courage to tell her the truth so he didn't say anything. All the rage he felt couldn't be put into words and he hated himself for ignoring her. He couldn't even face her. His head fell in shame as he heard her footsteps behind him, running to him to make him explain. Before she could get to him however he was already in his car. He turned the key in the ignition and with a heavy heart full of shame he drove away from the car park and away from her.

He thought of her standing there, clueless and furious and his selfish heart broke. He knew he shouldn't have been angry at Missy at all, she was only trying to protect him but he didn't want protecting. If only he hadn't called her earlier he would have been on Clara's motorbike now, his arms wrapped round her waist and the wind ruffling his hair. No, he was angry with himself the most. Hatred built up inside him at his stupid body, unable to sustain him in the things he wanted to do. He clenched the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white and the highway in front of him became blurry from tears of frustration.

When he finally got home he marched straight upstairs, hardly hearing Missy call his name, and flopped down on his bed in defeat. He thought about going to sleep,but his mind was too active and too guilt-ridden to shut down. Luckily Missy stayed away, and not just for his benefit but for hers too because he knew he would start a fight he didn't want.

Instead he wearily took out his laptop so he could carry on working and prayed there would be no messages from Clara. Yet there was something else just as bad and John wished with all his life that he could just end the day there and then.

As he clicked 'agree' to the prompting call he was faced with his boss. He tried not to groan.

'John, what the fuck have you been doing all day?' He started, and John knew that he was in deep trouble one way or another. 'You look like shit too.' He accused, as John rubbed his eyes tiredly.

'What is it?' He asked.

'What is it?! What were you doing today in your office that was so important you allowed no one to disturb you?'

Fuck. John felt like death would be more painful then. He knew exactly why he'd done it, as foolish as it was, but he knew he couldn't say anything about that to his boss. Instead he just sighed.

'We've had reports from Danny Pink, the man you rudely interrupted when he was telling you everything fucking important for tomorrow's meetings!'

John couldn't believe it. The catastrophic day was getting worse and worse as it went on. He knew and had successfully forgotten that he had important meetings all day tomorrow with the heads of the whole organisation, with some of the most important people deciding if they were going to keep supporting the company or not. And Danny had only tried to inform him of everything and he'd sent him away, because he hadn't been able to control himself from Clara.

'I'm...I'm really sorry about that. I'll prepare for it now if you send me the files which Danny had-'

'You are lucky you've got off on this one, Smith. How dare you block off communication with your whole fucking team! If everything goes badly tomorrow you won't have a job, understand?'

He quickly nodded.

'I'm all in favour of keeping your company going and I'll be persuading the others to invest in this organisation but if you fuck it up I won't be able to support you on it. I'll send you everything you were supposed to work on from Danny.'

'Thank you.' He said mildly. After a moment he saw the file pop up on his screen.

'You better get working, then, because you've got a lot of stuff to catch up on by tomorrow.'

He was almost afraid to ask but he had to make sure. 'This won't include the department managers, will it?' John was hoping and praying to himself that he would say no.

'Yes, it does. We've already sent them the same information.'

John had to stop himself from cursing aggressively. He would be in meetings all day with Clara there with him, and not for one second would he be on his own. He felt like he was being tortured by God himself.

'Right, I'll leave you now. If I hear you do anything like this again you'll be out. I'll be monitoring you tomorrow especially. Don't fuck it up.'

And with that he ended the call and John was stuck there with pages and pages of documents he had to read and calculate and write replies to. If only he had just paid attention to Danny. If only he had reminded himself of how important those meetings were. If only he had just been Clara's colleague instead of her lover.

Clara could hardly believe what happened. Why would he do that, why would he leave without saying anything? John Smith could make her angrier than anyone she'd ever known and yet she loved him all the more for it. Yet now it wasn't bubbling rage but unsettling disappointment she felt. She didn't dare ring him or message him; there's be no point. All she could do was climb on her motorbike and set off on her own. Clara tethered enough that it was Missy on the phone but what did she say that made John stop everything and leave her? She thought it was all going to be so much better this time around, yet it had only grown worse. For the first time she truly doubted he liked her enough, or that their relationship couldn't possibly work. Clara felt more alone than she ever remembered being and all she could think of was how he had looked at her, so sorry and guilty and sombre that she hadn't been able to move. He had kissed her too and it almost felt like a farewell. Surely with that parting kiss he hadn't broken up with her? It sounded so silly and girlish in her head but she took every single part of their relationship seriously. It was a scary thought to behold and one she didn't want to reflect on. For if he really had...what would she do? Clara couldn't think of a single thing. Quit her job and risk losing money for it, valuable money she needed. Ask to be enrolled to Coal Hill sooner. Ignore him and pretend like it never happened...

No, she was taking it too far. Hurtful words ran loose around her head and when that happened all hell broke within her mind.

When she reached home she was too awake for sleep. She knew that at this time now her and John could be in bed and...Clara didn't want to think about it. All she wanted was to talk to someone. Even if it meant giving up all decency and admitting her relationship with an older man. She refused to talk to John himself, although he would be receiving a very long one in the morning. Clara paced round her flat, unable to eat, to rest, to watch TV. There was too much going on inside her head.

After considering and pacing and reconsidering she found herself dialling a number into her telephone. The only people who knew was her father and John himself, and she couldn't tell her father her problems, he'd only respond with 'I told you so.'

Instead she was ringing Amy, the only person she really could confide in, and her oldest friend. After a few rings she answered, and Clara found that she had been in great need of hearing her voice.

'Clara! How are you?'

'Amy, I...I need your help.'

'What? Are you okay?'

'I'm fine I just really need someone's company, and a little bit of advice. Do you think you could come over for a while?'

'Yeah, of course, let me just wake Rory up and tell him and I'll come straight over.'

'Thank you.' She answered almost breathlessly, relieved to have someone there, someone she could talk to.

'No problem. I'll be there in five.'

She was immediately grateful to Amy and annoyed at herself for not telling her sooner. She should have known, Clara knew she wasn't one to judge but John just seemed too private. But now she needed advice and there was no one better for it.

Five minutes felt like an eternity to someone who had nothing to do and when Amy ultimately arrived she was in her arms immediately in a tight hug.

'Wow, are you sure you're alright?' She asked as Clara let go of her.

'I am, there's just something I need to tell you.'

When she fully saw her the first thing she noticed was how huge her bump was. A,y saw her staring.

'I know, Rory's finally started to freak out about it now.'

'Have you thought of any names yet?'

'Oh, we're pretty sold on Melody. What do you think?'

'It's a beautiful name.' She replied, smiling at how wonderful that child will be once she arrives.

'Now, what did you want to tell me?'

She had been so sidetracked by the baby she had momentarily forgot what she was supposed to say. Setting her tea down, she began on a shaky breath.

'You're not going to judge me on this, right?'

'Clara, I'd never judge anything you did. As long as it didn't involve my husband.'

She laughed at her joke, relieved that she didn't take it seriously. Amy ever rarely did. 'I've met someone at work, and...I like them a lot.'

'Well, that's a good thing.'

'I know, and he's unusual and annoying but lovely underneath.'

'I feel as if there's going to be a 'but' coming.'

'But,' she took a breath, 'he's an older man.'

'How old? Like, older as in ten years older or older as in way over senior older?'

'Well, I wouldn't call him a senior just yet-'

She gasped mockingly. 'Clara!'

Clara couldn't help but laugh. 'He's fifty-eight.'

Amy blew the breath out of her cheeks. 'Well, that is old.'

'I know it is and-'

'But not that old,' she cut in, 'And hey, If you like him, you like him, simple as that. Rory thinks I'm mad for liking Aiden Gillen but what can I say? Older guys are just very...mature.'

They both burst into giggles. 'So is that all you wanted to tell me?' She prompted.

'Not exactly. Well, firstly, my dad found out.'

She gasped, her hands covering her mouth. 'Fuck! I bet he wasn't too pleased. He's older than him!'

'Yep, and he caught us in, let's say, an awkward position.'

'Oh shit. How the fuck did that happen?'

'He was in the flat and we were both drunk, I'd given him a text saying to leave and it came out wrong so he stayed and...saw us kissing. Quite a lot.'

'Damn, I can only imagine how bad he was.'

'Oh yeah, he was furious,' she assured, 'told me to switch to Coal Hill straight away and stop seeing him and all that jazz. I think I pissed him off more than he did me, to be honest.'

'You haven't even told me his name yet.'

'Don't freak out, okay? I did at first, majorly...his name's John.'

Another gasp of surprise. 'You can't be serious? No wonder your dad wasn't happy.'

'I know, and I've kind of gotten used to it. Almost. I guess it still feels weird-'

'I guess you have a thing for John's.' Amy interjected.

'But he's so different in so many ways so it's not too destroying calling him John.'

'I'm not sure I'd be able to do that, y'know, if the same thing happened to Rory.'

A silence came upon the two girls and Clara searched for a way to diffuse the tension.

'Oh, and he's Scottish too!'

'Well, we Scots are the best. You don't have a photo of him, I suppose?'

'I'm not actually sure. Probably not of his face.' Clara took to searching her phone for any material while Amy continued sipping her tea.

'Well, this is the back of his head. Took that on a bench on our lunch break.'

'My god, talk about curly hair!'

'I know.' She said dreamily, thinking of his soft and silky curls through her fingertips. How she wished she could do that right then.

'Oh, and this is side profile. I doubt I have any full faced ones, I think he's a bit camera shy. Managed to take that one while he wasn't looking.'

As Amy examined it she realised just how beautiful the picture was. The green grassy hill sloped downward and revealed the tiniest dots of a city below, and he was looking out straight in front of him, his hair visibly being swept by the wind and his features wonderfully relaxed and calm. He looked almost boyish in the photo.

'He's not too bad at all, is he?' Amy raised her eyebrows. 'I assume you have more to tell me.'

Clara suddenly debated whether she would tell her or not. Just having Amy there had already lifted her spirits considerably, but she knew there was still a worry lurking at the back of her mind.

'Well, after we got caught at my flat we decided that we'd go somewhere else next time. And John obviously suggested his house, where he lives with his sister, Missy. We were about to go only a few hours ago, I was about to give him a ride on the bike,' she laughed, 'but just before that his phone rang, and from what I could tell it was Missy, and he stepped away from me so I couldn't hear. I didn't really think it was anything important but he was on the phone awhile and when he hung up he looked at me and apologised.'

'Apologised?'

'Yeah, twice he said it. I tried asking him what was wrong but he only said that in return. And then he kissed me and just left. Got in his car and drove off. I was so confused, and I just needed a friend's advice so I called you up and here you are.'

'Well, that's very bizarre behaviour. You were about to go round his, right?'

'Yeah.'

'To do what?' She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

Clara's eyes followed her shoes. 'I'm sure you can figure that out.' The uncomfortable silence hung in the air until Amy spoke again.

'Well, maybe he realised that he wasn't ready or that he felt the age gap was too much. Maybe it was Missy who advised him not to do it. Either way, there must be an explanation. If I were you, I'd have chased after his car trying to get answers. I'm amazed you're not calling him up and making threats.'

'Oh, trust me, I want to. He's going to to get a good, long talk tomorrow morning, if he succeeds to keep being alive.'

'Well, from what you've described of him he seems nice, but as you say, very odd.'

Clara took a second to go over that moment, when he told her he was sorry, and kissed her like it would be his very last.

'See, the way he acted it was almost like a break up.'

'What?!'

'Well, he kept saying he was sorry, and the way he kissed me, it was like he was never going to do it again. Was that intentional? Or was it just because, y'know, he was sorry that we didn't get a chance to be alone again?'

'I don't know what to think, Clara. All I think is that he must have had a pretty good explanation to just leave you without answers, and if he doesn't give it to you he's clearly hiding something. And if he really was breaking up with you, well then, he's a fucking fool for doing so. There's no one better he could have.'

Clara smiled up at her friend, a warm, genuine smile. 'You make everything better again, Amy.'

'I don't think you should worry, Clara,' she said, 'even if he has ended it, he'll be regretting it before long.'


	11. Chapter 11

I'm sorry for no updates I know it's been a while and God all the work I'm getting is too much to handle...I'm very very sorry. By the end of the month I'm hoping it will get better. Enjoy

Chapter 11

Clara woke up with determination burning inside her heart. After last night's chat with Amy she felt better but angrier, if that was possible, with John. She promised to herself that she wouldn't be lenient with him, even if he had a suitable explanation. All she could think of was facing him and trying not to melt under his gaze. She had to channel all of that annoyance she felt, even before they had become friends, when she used to prank him and insult him, it needed to be that kind of anger. The day didn't start off very successfully anyway, as her toe hit the edge of her laptop hard enough to make her swear violently. Rubbing her toe, she peered at the screen and saw an email. Curiously clicking into it she saw the files they were going to analyse in a huge meeting they had today. She couldn't believe the meeting had to be today, it was the worst time for it. She would be surrounded by important people and forced to talk about the job she did, the work, and the customers. At least she'd prepared for one, this time. But it would be incredibly hard trying to yet John alone long enough to talk to him. Grumbling about work and meetings and John, she finally got out of bed. She had realised the only time she could talk to him was if she got there at the office at the same time he did. And that was extremely early for her. Regardless, she got dressed as quickly as she could, and only grabbed some fruit on the way out, even missing out on her morning cup of tea. She glanced at he watch. Yes, it was early enough. He wouldn't arrive at work for at least another half an hour. Clara revved up the engine of her motorbike and set off toward the publishers building, keeping track of time and purposefully driving faster than usual to get there. When she parked and climbed off her bike she saw his car already parked there, and raced inside before he could shut himself inside his office again. As it was, he had only just arrived there too, and she saw him walk down the corridor when she came out of the elevator, yawning and holding a steaming cup of coffee. Clara didn't even need to think about it; before he could even exclaim in surprise she had walked up behind him and grabbed him by his jacket into the toilets next to them.

'Clara?! What are you doing here, you normally come in much later.'

'Well, I realised we had those meetings today and wanted to catch you at the most convenient time.'

'Why are we in the ladies toilets?'

'In case anyone hears me fucking slapping you!' She gave him a small smack round the cheek that had turned out to be actually very painful for him. His hand rubbed it as his mouth made an 'o'.

'Clara!'

She was filled with probably too much rage, but she was half enjoying it. For the first time since their first kiss she felt like she had suddenly reverted back to her old self.

'What the fuck was last night about? You drove away from me without explaining anything!'

'I know, I just...I can't tell you what it is.'

'Why?' She asked sternly.

'Because I don't want...I don't want you to see me in a different way. My sister always does and it ruined everything last night.'

It didn't make sense at all to her, but the way his face looked down at hers so honestly her anger started to dissipate. But it wasn't enough to forgive him at all.

'I'm sorry, Clara, I wanted to go back home with you. And I was furious at my sister for intervening. But it's something I can't tell anyone. Even you.'

'Why are you keeping secrets?!'

'Because some things are best kept alone!'

'Well, if it's something serious, isn't it best telling me? As I'm supposed to be your girlfriend?' She exclaimed. She could feel her cheeks burning up again. Nope, she wouldn't let this one go.

'Don't you have secrets?' He bellowed, 'don't you have things to hide?'

'We all still have secrets...John...' Her voice trailed off, grew weak. She didn't even want him seeing her, looking concerned. She willed her eyes to stay clear and focus, but when that memory floated back to the surface of her mind her vision went blurry and her eyes sparkled. He had said that to her. And now she was even imitating him.

'Clara, are you alright?' He attempted to step closer, to take her arm in comfort but she stepped back.

'I'm fine.' She protested, 'and I'm still bloody angry at you so don't even try soften me up.' She finally looked back up into his eyes, staring for a whole minute until they heard a voice from outside.

'Hello? Is the manager here, then?'

They heard a group of colleagues claim they hadn't seen him, that he was later than usual. The man sighed. 'If he is bloody late to this meeting...' The man left his sentence unfinished at the promise of something bad.

'Shit, that's the boss, my boss.' He said, ruffling his hair in exasperation.

'Can you just see if he's in this corridor Clara?' He asked.

'Why should I?' She asked stiffly.

'Just...please.'

She stared at him vehemently. 'Fine, but we're not done here yet. Not at all.'

'Okay, fine, can you just look?'

She poked her head through the door. 'He's not there. Seems to be already in the office.'

'Good.' He said, as he swept past her.

'Yeah, John, you better run before he leaves you, all alone.' She called after him. Clara let the door close behind her and then checked herself in the mirror. She hadn't smudged her make up at least through her wet eyes. She dried them with the back of her hand, trying not to focus on the cause of her crying. She hated for John to have seen her like that when she was so angry. Clara told herself she would make sure to carry on with it after the meetings had ended. When she was sure she looked relatively back to normal she made her way into the office, ignoring John's presence and immediately entering the kitchen to make the tea she had missed out on. She could feel John's eyes following her as he stood there with his boss, and when she re emerged spotted a particular person crouching down at the printer. Clara knew it would make him just the tiniest bit jealous.

'Hi, Danny.'

'Oh,' he looked up from the mechanics of the printer, 'hi Clara. You're not normally in this morning.'

'Mm,' she sipped her tea, 'I was promised a lift by a friend but they bailed on me so I came alone.' She said it loud enough for John to hear. Clara delighted in the angry sigh he gave.

'Anyway, how are you?'

'I'm good. Could use a break though, and something to drink. I'll get one in a minute and talk, after I've sorted out this damn printer.'

'Well that's okay, I'll get you one. What do you want, tea, coffee?'

'Black coffee would be lovely, thanks.' He smiled at her brightly as she left. Clara had no doubt that John had seen it.

She returned back a few minutes later and Danny was still trying to work it.

'Thanks, Clara.' He said, taking the steaming cup while sighing in frustration.

'Why don't you just leave it for the moment? Get someone else to do it.'

'Yeah, John's over there, he's the manager so he can fix the bloody thing.' He handed his mug to Clara and stalked off to where John was talking with his boss. Clara giggled as he started talking, and John looked directly at her, smiling at the both of them. After what seemed to be grumbling protests, he stomped over to her and examined the printer. She leaned over it, watching him concentrate and sipping her tea idly.

'With all your area and expertise, you must know how to fix a printer blindfolded.' She told him, and he looked up to give her the pinnacle of an angry stare. Danny laughed, encouraging Clara further, yet it was only in a matter of seconds the printer started to actually print and John stood up, pompously smug.

'A fool could have done that.' He smirked at Danny.

'And a fool did do it.' He quipped back.

'Boys, boys, boys, there's enough testosterone in this world without you two adding to it. It's unbearable.'

They both met her eyes and then John walked off. Clara had to admit she both enjoyed and missed winding him up.

'So, are you in that meeting today?'

'Yep.'

'It's going to be a long day.'

'Well, yeah, its a meeting.'

'And the fact that we'll get out later today than everyone else.'

She straightened up. 'What?'

'We're going to be two hours overworked today.'

In her mind Clara saw this as a perfect opportunity to speak to John. Everyone else would be at home, all the people at the meeting would be going too, and she'd just make sure he didn't.

'Aw, damn.'

'I know. I have to meet my friends for dinner as well.'

'Where are you going?'

'There's this place, a club, really. Always packed, good vibe. You could come along if you wanted to. Unless, you know, you're with someone-'

'Yeah sure. Not tonight, but sometime else.'

'Cool, okay. And, uhm, maybe we could go for that drink-'

But he never got to finish that sentence, because John interrupted them.

'We're starting the meeting now, everyone's here.' He was looking mostly at Clara, not park get attention to Danny at all. It was likely he had heard Danny asking her out, and she could see in his eyes that if he so much as looked at him the temptation would be too great to punch him round the face.

'Fine. We'll be there in a minute.'

She deliberately turned up two minutes later and sat next to Danny, who looked very pleased by it. John tried to focus on the meeting, but Clara could tell he was still distracted. When they had finally parted for lunch she beheld no desire to talk to him there, as much as he might have wanted her to, and shut himself inside his office. Clara instead hung around Danny, who was trying to entertain her as best as he could. She actually found him a very nice person in comparison to John's dislike. He was well-mannered, funny and handsome, and Clara started to enjoy his company for her own benefit rather than to make John jealous. She even gave him her phone number, which she decided not to tell John. Of course, she was still mad at him but that didn't mean she didn't want him. And Danny, although considered great boyfriend material, remained just a friend. Although she was concerned on wither he knew that himself, as by the end of the lunch hour he had not so subtly started to flirt with her. She replied back as candidly as she could without being mean and separated herself from him in the next meeting. However, she noticed that John had very much changed his own seating arrangement. He was laughing beside River, to which she was supplying stories and anecdotes, and Clara was becoming rapidly angry about how close she was to him. It was as if she had no personal space of her own and so invaded John's. She knew that he had done this deliberately and realised that he had probably seen too much of her in Danny's company and decided to fight back to make her jealous.

It was sickening to see him positively sucking up to the woman, and Clara was now determined to get him alone afterwards. She couldn't help become proud of him, however, when it was announced that they would still support the company. John had shaken the hands of their superiors and his boss in particular had told him he hadn't lost his job, which he seemed very happy about. Clara almost wished that she could hug him then and there for his success but it was out of the question. She felt so tired and drained by the end of it that she almost compelled herself to go home. Being at work unusually early and staying way after the working day had made her want to go to sleep instantly. Yet she had the unfinished business of talking to John, so she patiently waited until she had woken herself up and found him just about to leave.

'John.' She tapped him on the shoulder, and he spun found to face her. His features instantly dropped, 'I told you, we're not done here yet.'

'No, it's, 'I haven't shouted at you enough yet to make myself satisfied.' I told you Clara, it's something I can't and won't tell you.'

'What, because you're afraid of me seeing you differently?'

'Yes, I am, and if you knew, you'd understand why!'

'Tell me then! Help me to understand! I wouldn't have been surprised if you were doing this just to annoy me, you've probably already told everyone, including River-'

'Seriously? You're going to act like that about River when you were practically flinging yourself on Danny?'

'I wasn't flinging myself at him. I was too angry to talk to you so I found someone else to talk to. And Danny is a really nice person, actually.'

'Yeah, and also the one I hate!'

'I don't understand why you do!'

He exhaled in fury. 'Does that matter? He was still flirting with you, asking you out to a club-'

'It wasn't like I was flirting back!'

'How would I know?'

'Because I wouldn't do something like that to you, he will always just be a friend. And I know I made it look like I was, I was just making you jealous.'

'And suddenly I'm not allowed to do that to you?'

They paused for a brief moment, the whole office deserted, and the only sounds that could be heard was their ragged breaths.

'No, because you had already made me feel vexed from last night.'

'Why can't you just accept the fact that if I'd had it my way, you would have spent the night, but certain reasons made it impossible? And I still don't know why you won't let it go!'

'Because it felt like you were breaking up with me!'

'What?!' He looked aghast, and confused.

'Oh, come on! The way you kept apologising, and then the way you kissed me, it felt like it was all some planned break up!'

'For god's sake, you didn't actually think that, did you?'

'Of course I bloody did, I didn't know what else to think!'

'At least I kind of understand why you were so angry.'

'Exactly. I wouldn't be like this, and I wouldn't have minded if it was just that we couldn't spend the night together. It was the fact that you left without telling me why! And now you've just made me madder and madder because of River-'

'Well, think about how I felt! Watching you cosy up to Danny like you didn't care at all about me!'

'I think I care too much about you, John, otherwise it would never have happened!'

'Why are you being like this?' He shouted, fully distressed now, as was she.

'Why can't you just tell me what's wrong?!'

In the heat of the moment, the tension became paramount and he looked blazingly into her eyes, and then the space between them closed and his lips were crushing on hers, all thought gone and vanished as she reciprocated and kissed back just as hard. His hands fervently came up to her cheeks and his fingers clenched her hair while her own were looped round his neck. His mouth opened up to hers and she slid his tongue between his teeth, all the while conscious of how far they were leaning backward, and in their stumbling found the back of a desk. Her legs wrapped round his waist as she fell back, cushioned by the comfort of his arms around her, and delighted in the feel of his body bearing down on hers. Neither of them gave any thought to whose desk it was, too tied up in passion to care. It was aggressive but endearing, as he bruised her jaw with kisses and lead a trail all the way down to her neck, her fingers twining round his downy curls, his own hands uncontrollably eager to caressing her body. All the pent up frustration was set loose and Clara set her lips on his again with enough fire that it felt as if they were burning. She could feel the spark of electricity run through her all the way down to the core as he began grinding into her, especially pleasurable when it was him, John Smith, doing this to her. She almost fell under the spells of his ministrations but not enough to feel the eagerness of his arousal becoming rapidly apparent and Clara found herself tugging on his belt while he unbuttoned his shirt immensely quickly, and soon the exposure of his stomach was too hard to resist. She ran her palms over him, down his back, and everything about him seemed to make perfect sense to her. He began himself to rid her of her clothing too, first unbuttoning her blouse, second letting her skirt slide down to her ankles. She kissed the space between his collarbones, underneath his ear, felt the imprints of his fingers threading through her hair in a way that almost hurt. Her lips smashed into his and melded quickly after that, familiar now with the shape and curve of his lips. Clara could hardly think straight but all she knew was that she wanted him inside her immediately. Her legs overlapped themselves from being wrapped round his thin waist, glancing down just enough to see her shoes still on, and she smiled faintly. Clara brought him closer to her and it no longer felt like a winter evening, but as if she was laying on a blazing fire. John was so hot it was unbelievable, but as he handled her thighs her attention snapped back to his angelic blue eyes and she squirmed uncontrollably when he placed a kiss on the inside of it. Urging him forward in the midst of uncontainable passion, he finally entered her, and Clara felt the breath in her lungs escape her. She laid her head back on the desk, nearly hitting the keyboard, her neck exposed. Leaning over her, he peppered her throat with kisses, Clara finding it hard not to react so sharply as she did. She had felt this before, but not as John was doing it. He took every part of her skin and ravaged it in the best way, the argument and the frustration and anger at each other becoming intertwined all at once. He pounded deeper and harder, her arms looping round his halo of hair as he hit deeper and deeper, Clara helping him pull her top off as fast and hard as they could, which she was sure now had a violent tear through it as it felt it the ground. He took in her upper torso, his eyes becoming hooded and hungry and when he lowered his jaw to her breasts it was all she could do not to gasp. Clara could hardly bear the building amount of pleasure she was experiencing, and hearing John groan throatily in response was pleasurable in itself. When John ultimately thrust hard inside her and she climaxed she could feel losing the weight of the world. It was only him and her, in the whole of space. Time slowed down and possibly stopped as she willed the world to wait, drawing out the moment as long as she could until she felt the roughness of a kiss on her shoulder and his body holding hers against him. Her eyes closed briefly and her head moved to the left, looking over to the window, just making out the sky beyond and letting her breathing return to normal. Her hands played the thin curls on his head like the strings of an instrument, his head resting on her stomach. There had never been a moment so serene and peaceful between them. It felt like to her that nothing bad could ever happen again, as she observed the darkness of the night in contrast of the vibrant lights down below, where everyone was walking. Clara felt no desire to move or interrupt this silent interlude other than to raise his head from her skin, her palm gently caressing his cheek, and kiss him softly.

It had felt like a whole age had passed before either of them wanted to move. In the end it was a forced agreement, John rising from the cosy warmth of her body to stand. For a second he felt extremely dizzy, his head making colours shift through his eye line so he could hardly see, shaking uncontrollably until everything cleared and he could see again. After effect, he thought, as he pulled up his pants. He wasn't exactly as young or as agile as she was, yet he hoped it hadn't been too unnatural for her. The countless thoughts he had experienced of how she could be doing this with a man like him came briefly to mind once again. He suddenly felt his chest tighten rapidly and a violent cough escaped him. He carried on for a few seconds until he wheezed to get his breath back. He knew exactly why, what, and how it had caused that. It was what Missy had been afraid of. Successfully keeping in control his eyes flickered to Clara who was looking at him in concern. It was only then he realised that she was still sitting on the desk, her legs swinging from above the floor, exposed in front of him and his mind concentrated on her. Her body, her curves, all her perfect imperfections made him want to hold her tight to him, feel the beat of her thumping heart against his ear.

'Are you okay?' She said, her eyebrows creasing in worry.

'It's fine,' he dismissed, 'age catching up with me.' At least he gave her part of the truth. But she didn't need to know the bigger part now when everything was so tranquil. Her flushed face, her full lips, dark eyes glistening, wild and tangled bed head hair messy and framed perfectly round her cheeks.

She smiled suggestively. 'You were impressive, for a guy your age.'

'Thanks.' He said bashfully, pulling up his trousers. At the sight of him putting on clothing she slipped off the desk and picked up her own clothes, much to his regret. He would have liked it if she'd stayed there a few more minutes, just so he could never forget.

'That was a little unexpected.' She said, and John thought back to how furious they had been with each other. It had evaporated into the very air, and now in the comfortable silence he felt calm wash over him.

'But...good?' He tested.

She smirked up at him, placing her arms around his bare chest. John could still feel shivers from the contact of her touch.

'Good.' She agreed, 'I guess I have to finally stop being mad at you.'

'If mad goes like this every time then you can count me in.'

She leaned against him, kissing his chest before kissing his mouth. He could hardly contain the emotion within him at such affection. He truly had lost the sense of what it was like to be in love with somebody. How it had happened he still had no clue, but he was glad that for the moment there was only him and Clara.

'I wouldn't push it that far. When I'm mad at you, you shouldn't expect this to happen again.'

'I just feel for the poor sod who sits at that desk.' They both turned their heads toward it, the equipment having been pushed far back and a few utensils on the floor from having been knocked over. Clara giggled into him, and he felt the need to wrap his arms around her.

'Well, we have a tendency for doing inappropriate things in offices.'

'We're lucky no one's even noticed.'

'Yeah, maybe a bed would do just fine next time, but I guess it wouldn't match up quite so much with the thrill.'

'The thrill? You mean, the fear of being caught.'

'Yes, exactly that.' She smiled. John could feel the imprint of her grin faintly on his stomach.

'I think we should, uh, probably go now.'

'Yeah, already overstayed our welcome.'

John wrapped his shirt over him, doing up the buttons while never taking eyes off Clara. When she herself put on her shirt there was no doubt to anyone what they had been doing. A hole ripped through the shoulder spanned almost down to the cuff.

'Shit, I have nothing else to wear.'

John glanced out of the window. Frost was gathering on lampposts, and no doubt the pathways too.

'You're going to freeze, Clara.'

'I left my coat at home because I got up early to come here, my jacket's being washed, I should have fucking realised-'

Without words he gently placed his long frock coat over her small-framed shoulders. The end of it reached just lower than her knees, and he could see the thick lining of the coat made her happy from the warmth.

'Thanks.' She breathed. 'Won't you be cold?' He could almost hear Missy's words in his ears with the same question, his groan in response to being coddled too much. He smiled reassuringly. 'I'll be fine.'

When they walked out of the building they stopped for a while and stared at the sky, brown on the verge of turning coal black and dotted with stars. The moon was full but was half concealed by a blanket of clouds.

They observed the sky together for a few moments before he looked down at her, his heart softening beneath its hard shell. She was more beautiful than any sight he could behold, better than anything he could imagine. She continued looking on up at the sky, unaware of the looks he gave her. It was just as well. She looked so insanely pretty in the weak moonlight that he didn't want her to turn round to him. Yet she did, and his breath caught in his throat when her eyes twinkled at him.

'What do you want to do?' He asked.

He could see her going through options in her head and half hoped she told him 'round two.' Yet the other, more annoyingly sensible side of him argued that he didn't have it in him physically to do it again. He wouldn't mind going back to her flat though, just so long as her dad was far, far away from sight.

'Well, you never got to have a go on the bike.' She said. John smiled, yet was unsure of how stable he would be on it, having just done what he'd done. He still felt a little disoriented. Nevertheless he took the hand she held out for him and practically ran as she dragged him along to the motorcycle, standing tall and proud.

'Do you need a hand?' She asked, as he simply stared at it.

'Oh, no, I'm fine.' He swung his leg over it, trying to at least not look like a complete fool.

'That was good.' She commented kindly. At least he hadn't stumbled. John watched as Clara swung over the side of the bike effortlessly, smiling round at him and as she roared the engine to life and handed him a helmet he wrapped his arms round her waist, leaning into her as the bike turned out of the car park. His chin leaned against her shoulder as he admired the lights of shops and buildings, lampposts and the moon overhead. The wind ran through his hair and ruffled it until it was flapping in his eyes and blocking his vision. At one point her hand touched his intertwined ones, and John felt much better about riding a motorbike with Clara there. It was a sensational feeling, wounding round the turns and bends, braking at the red light and shooting off was just then that he realised Clara was taking him to the main city area, where everything was still open and he was almost anticipating it. As it started to drizzle lightly he kissed her shoulder, smiling like an idiot because he had her and it felt like a dream. The rain continued, albeit lightly as they stopped and Clara grinned at him.

'I figured you were hungry.' She said, and he looked up to the sign over the door of a restaurant.

'Clara, you didn't have to-'

'Yes, I did. You've paid for everything else so far and I'm absolutely starving.'

He chuckled. 'I guess I am too.' He admitted.

'There you go.' She said triumphantly.

'Could we at least go halves?'

'Nope.' She said adamantly.

'Do you have enough money?'

'Yes. Now stop talking and come on over here!'

He did as she asked, kissing her passionately then and there in the street, uncaring if anyone was watching. The exultance he felt made up for every other hardship he'd ever faced, every illness, every bad word.

'Come on, you.' She shook her head at him, leading him into the restaurant. As soon as they had sat down together a bundle of nerves tightened in his chest, his eyes shooting warily to other couples looking at them as they entered, finally understanding why Clara was so scared of telling anyone they were together. His eyes ascertained back to her, and he exhaled calmly at the smile on her face. For the moment, she only had eyes on him.

'What do you want?' She asked.

'Nothing much. I could just have a drink.'

'No, you're having something to eat. You're as thin as anything.' She laughed.

He chuckled shakily as his certain current problem pressed heavily against his mind. His head turned to the open window, observing two people just visible beyond the lamplight arguing intensely. At least it wasn't him in that situation right now. His hands nearly recoiled at the sudden touch of hers, when she rested her palms over his fingers.

'You alright?'

He nodded, giving her a lopsided smile. Being inside the restaurant and sitting in an intimately close booth with Clara with many others around him had reduced him to jitters, which was something not often found within him. Outside on the street s it was like no one ever noticed them, or at least didn't look too much. Yet under the heat of the overhead lights and the blaze of a dozen eyes on them it felt very uncomfortable, and if it hadn't been for Clara's stubbornness he would have left. What really broke his heart was the fact some people may even dismiss them as father and daughter, and he felt even stranger when he realised she was just as relaxed as everybody else.

'I just didn't think you'd like it in here. You know, with all these...people around.'

She looked up at him with her shining eyes and it made him feel complacently relaxed for a moment.

'After tonight I feel like there is no shame. And that there shouldn't be any shame. People can guess and gossip all they like, but these people don't know us. We're strangers and we're together. And that's all that should matter.'

Her answer put him at ease with how decided she was, and unworried. He thought that maybe what they had done tonight had bridged the gap a little between office romance and serious relationship. After all, it was something he pined for even with his instincts telling him not to get tangled up in it. But Clara had come along and oddly turned his life around, so much so that he frequently wondered how life used to be without her there. Only then did he realised how much of an impact she had made already.

His attention was drawn away viciously from his thoughts to the waiter kindly standing to take their order. John had hardly looked at a menu, and his stutters ended with having repeated what Clara was having. He continued to observe the woman before him, already reminiscing the feeling of her lips brushing his, the way her legs wrapped round him which made him subconsciously crave for more.

'We're not having a staring contest are we?' She asked, and John blinked aggressively and averted his eyes.

'No.' He said quickly. Clara only laughed. 'You've gone really quiet. You don't like it in here, do you?'

'No, it's fine I was just thinking.'

'About what?'

Somehow he had foreseen the question and strived to find a suitable answer. All he could come up with was 'you.'

She raised her eyebrows. 'How refreshing. If it makes you feel better I was just thinking about how mad I was with you and how weird it is sitting here with you now.'

'Life is full of surprises.' He supplemented.

At his words their meals came, and amidst the winter air and icy windows the heat was welcome to their mouths.

Half an hour and a stomach full of food later, John wondered just how long the day would last. By now he would probably be dozing on the keys of his computer if he were at home. Clara came bounding beside him, grinning excitedly as if intoxicated. It gave him all positive energy in the world.

'So, where do you want to go next?'

The night was far from over, it seemed. John could have happily retired to bed but didn't want to disrupt the thrill of being out with Clara, open to endless possibilities.

'Wherever you want.'

'There's loads of pubs and nightclubs that way,' she pointed down the far street to her left, 'or there's a few 24 hour shops we could buy a few things at.'

At the mention it nightclubs, John instantly withered inside his damaged heart. That was not going to be good for his health at all. He wished to request going home but still he felt too gentlemanly to make a decision. Clara herself was turning her head this way and that, holding onto his hand absent-mindedly while deliberating. It was shocking to him how natural the gesture had become.

'Well, I do need some milk.' She said finally, 'and I don't think I have the energy or the stomach to face the nightclub tonight.'

John almost audibly sighed in relief. He had the feeling it would have become immensely awkward had the desire been to go the other way.

'The shop it is.' He declared, following her down the almost deserted street. He had no idea of how late it was but he was sure Missy would be preparing at least a speech for him in the morning. He was already formulating his opposing argument of being an adult and allowed to do what he wanted when Clara disrupted his thoughts with a question.

'Do you want to stay the night at my place?'

John's conflicting brain made it hard to give a coherent answer. Did staying round hers mean more pleasing her? Was it going to impact him physically? Was Missy going to kill him for doing it? At least one question he knew the answer to.

'Uh, okay then.' He replied automatically.

She laughed, turning to him briefly while reaching for the milk at the very top. He swiftly extended his arm to take it for her while she continued.

'I feel as if that was a very tentative, pressurised answer.'

It wasn't, I just-' he stopped in the middle of his sentence when they reached the counter. He waited patiently enough, trying to wrack his brain with what to say. How could he say it? His eyes drifted toward the different coloured boxes standing just to the left of him. Did he need-

'Come on.' Clara said mid-thought, turning away from the cashier, and suddenly he stood awkwardly, not taking a step forward.

'What is it?' She asked.

He felt his cheeks burning up slightly as he tried and failed to speak.

'Do I, I mean, should we...' He stuttered, before pointing sheepishly to the condoms on the shelf.

'No.' She said in response, laughing at his expression. Without further argument he swiftly exited the shop, having felt like an idiot in front of not only Clara, but the cashier.

'I wasn't inviting you over for that.' She explained, 'I knew from the look on your face you'd misinterpreted my offer.'

'Well, that's kind of a relief.'

'We've had enough for one day, and I'm extremely tired, so the only thing we'd be doing is sleeping. Plus I didn't want to over-exert you.' She added.

He sighed deeply. 'I'm not frail.'

'I know you're not. But you couldn't have gone through it again and you knew that.'

He hung his head. 'I guess so.'

'Hey,' she said, making him meet her eyes, 'it's fine. You're and older man and I respect that.'

'Well, you make me feel old.'

'And you make me feel very young.' She chuckled.

The corners of his lips lifted into a soft smirk as he took her hand, the warmth of her palm wondrously welcome against his cold skin.

Nervously edging toward the door, he did a quick mental scan of any other human beings lurking there before he fully stepped in; he still felt like a criminal after the incident with her dad. Her flat was just as cosy and messy as it had been the last time, bills splayed over the counters, a glass of red wine still sitting on the table, cushions detached from their usual positions to litter the floor precariously. He imagined the morning rush of getting ready to go to work, almost picturing Clara pacing up and down her flat while multi tasking, flitting from room to room and knocking everything over in her haste to open the door. He smiled a little, not even realising that the real Clara had disappeared. He tentatively opened the door he thought lead to her bedroom, disrupting her from rummaging through her wardrobe.

'I was trying to find some old clothes I might have for you, but apparently I threw them away.' She said, and John saw for just a second, a hint of sombre disappointment cross her face before it vanished instantly.

'Well, I can just undress to my pants...if that's okay.'

She bit her lip seductively, clearly approving of the idea. 'Go for it.'

As they undressed John reflected on what he had said earlier about Clara making him feel old. In fact, it was only partially the truth. For the most part, she made him feel more alive than he had ever been, and actually younger too, more younger by the day. Seeing her reveal herself to him, made him feel for the first time like he truly belonged with her. Standing at the opposite ends of the bed, silently watching the other as they dressed down it felt bizarrely domestic. That was something he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Clara wolf whistled when she saw his underpants, raising her eyebrows at the chaotic pattern of question marks on them. He grinned shyly, realising that it probably looked ridiculously silly for a man of his age to have question mark underpants.

'This is what I've been wanting to do all along.' She commented, slipping under the sheets as he did too. It was weird to lie in a bed in an unfamiliar room that wasn't his own, and much less with a woman too. He wondered just how exactly he'd gotten this far, why, in all the universe, did someone like Clara like him in that way. Maybe it was the worlds way of giving something back after what it had been taking from him already, leeching him dry almost but keeping his body still intact. He dispelled these thoughts before they went too far, to look into Clara's romantic eyes as she turned off the light, lifting the duvet up to their necks. She leaned in to kiss him slowly, so far away from the violent exchanges they had made earlier that his mouth felt confused on what pace it was working at. Regardless, the way her arm leant into his chest to reach his lips, the feel of her hair as his hands smoothed it down with his fingers, the darkness covering their faces from each other, it was the most intimately tender display of affection he had ever endured before. She drew away but he hardly noticed; he felt her pause at his side and then roll onto hers, and after a hesitant second he nervously wrapped his arms round her body, pressing himself to her in a delicate, congenial way. His chin rested atop her head, and gingerly he kissed it long enough to ponder again on why he was there. All thoughts of what Missy would say left him, and he concentrated on his limbs holding foreignly a woman who had made herself essential to him now. More so than anyone else, more so than even he was to himself. It shocked him that he could admit it now. He was still unsure of how to position himself exactly, but it was the fact that Clara Oswald was in his arms that he didn't care. For once, he drifted off without complaint.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Clara rolled over lazily, eyes still shut, and inevitably bumped her nose against something strangely solid. She yawned, only just remembering that it was John, and she had collided into the side of his chest. Clara smirked, propping herself up on her elbows and smiling serenely. A few stray curls rested on his forehead and his tousled bed head was spread all over the pillow. His breathing was calm and light, limbs all over the place. For a moment she stared, then leaned in to kiss him. Initially it was only a peck, but he reciprocated unexpectedly, surprising her as he pulled her lips back to his again.

'I almost thought you were a dream.' He mumbled, eyes still closed.

'Well, I can assure you now,' she said between kisses, 'this is real.'

He finally opened his eyes as his mouth curved into a devilishly handsome smile.

'You look beautiful.'

She scoffed. 'Just woken up.'

'Nonetheless.' He said simply. Her hands slid down to trace geometric patterns into his chest, finding it as surreal as he did that he was in her bed, completely undone and obscure from the erratic John she'd become accustomed to at the office.

'Do you want some breakfast?' She asked.

He shook his head, still smiling that smile, almost like an endearing pout - he gave the impression of a puppy.

'I only have a quick coffee.'

'I guess we better get up. We still have to go to work.' Clara climbed off him.

'I wish we didn't.'

'I never thought I'd see the day when John Smith didn't care about going to work.'

He stared unblinkingly at her as she bundled up her top and threw it to the pillow beside him.

'You changed me.'

The way he said it made her stop in disbelief. It sounded sentimental, meaningful, not as flippant as she'd expected it.

'For better or worse?'

He didn't answer the question, but diverted completely. 'You'll be the death of me, Clara Oswald.'

In a usual circumstance she would have laughed but it didn't hold any comedic value in his tone. She wondered if the rush of last night had gone to his head.

When she saw her phone still sitting on the counter she wondered why it hadn't sounded her alarm. She hoped they were early in waking up. Cautiously reaching for it she read the time and nearly dropped it to the floor.

'Shit!'

John bolted up from his position immediately. 'What is it?'

'We're late. Very late. Seriously late.' Clara burst her wardrobe doors open in the search of clothes, and John sprang up out of bed and examined the time for himself.

'Fuck!' He exclaimed, 'we should have gotten up over an hour ago!'

'I know, I'm sorry, I forgot to set the alarm again.'

They both were in a state, rushing round the flat to get things done as fast as they could.

John dressed and cleaned all in the space of five minutes, and Clara could see that whatever peace they had had ten minutes ago, it was surely lost now. She grasped hold of him, tying his tie for him while he ruthlessly tried to multi task.

'Hey, stop fidgeting!' She admonished, to a slight grumble of exasperation.

'It's bad enough we're late, people will know if we both walk in together like this.'

'Then I'll wait ten minutes or so.' She said, tightening the fabric round his neck.

'God knows what they'll say. It's hardly a coincidence we'd both be this late, is it?'

Clara tried not to think about, even though she swallowed roughly at the thought. She couldn't let people know. She couldn't subject herself or John to what could become social embarrassment.

After twenty minutes of getting ready they departed, and practically ran to Clara's motorcycle. As soon as they were on the road the minutes were building up to just under forty minutes late to the office, and Clara was trying her hardest to get there as fast as she could, and to keep John under control. He was extremely dishevelled, his untamed hair and darkened eyes indicators of that. She hoped for their sakes that no one would be watching when they turned into the building, observing that he was in the passenger seat with his arms looped round her waist.

As soon as they parked John impressively jumped off over the side of the bike, running toward the door.

'Do you want me to wait here for twenty minutes then?' She shouted. He turned round and nodded just before he entered the building and Clara exhaled a sigh. She held her head in her hands for a moment, allowing her fatigue to pass. Usually when she got up earlier she allowed at least five minutes to wake up fully, but today hadn't been the case. The time ticked slowly on her watch, and she could imagine the distress on John's face when bombarded with questions. She wondered what excuse he would make up.

After enough time spent alone, she traipsed toward the elevator, uncaring now that she had missed just under an hour of work already. It felt only minutes ago that she had been in bed with John. Clara sleepwalked tiredly to her desk, blocking out the stares and whispers and questions. John was nowhere to be seen.

'We thought John was late, look at you! Trying to piss him off again?' Rose nudged her jokingly.

'No, I over-slept. Forgot to set my alarm.'

'Because of what?'

'Nothing, just forgot.'

'It's what John said too. Everyone was confused as fuck cause he's so punctual and early all the time.'

'Yeah, well, can't always be perfect like him.'

Rose sniggered. 'Got that right.'

She logged on to her computer, trying her best to clear her mind. She peered through the blinds to his office, but couldn't make him out.

It was only a matter of minutes until she got interrupted again, however.

'Hey.' Danny leant over her computer, trying to look cool and actually carrying it off. Clara realised a second before he talked how friendly she was to him yesterday.

'So, I guess you got a bit caught up last night?'

She froze automatically, yet recognised it wasn't what he meant.

'Yeah, sorry about that. Things to do, y'know.'

'It's okay. We can go to a club another time, for sure.'

She smiled, yet inside she felt uneasy. Clara could vision the exact calmness of her and John in bed, the exact flaring passion that had taken over them last night and felt instantly guilty. It would have been easy to admit she had a boyfriend if that person was anyone but the boss.

'Yeah, maybe.'

He leant over further, making her feel even more conscious-stricken.

'What are you working on at the moment, then?' He asked. She could see he wasn't interested at all in what she was doing but was the best way to hang around. Clara wished people would stop disrupting her; she gave him an honest answer.

'Managing customer services, like usual.'

Clara had to admit that after yesterday's display of warmth and interest Danny was surely to be perplexed by her attitude today.

'Ah...good.' He eyed her while she continued tapping away at her keyboard until he politely dismissed himself. She liked Danny a lot, in fact she would have gone out for that drink with him but it wouldn't have been fair on John, particularly. They'd played enough games with each other as it was.

'So, what kept you up late?' More questions, she groaned, and swivelled round to see River, of all people. She tried to keep a friendly facade when she faced her.

'Nothing. Forgot to set my alarm.'

'Oh. I just thought that because of John-'

'What about John?!' She interrupted instantly, recognising a note of panic in her voice though no one else picked up on it.

'Well, I saw you with him walking down the street.'

Clara felt relief flood her; at least it was nothing too shocking. She racked her brain quickly to come up with something.

'He told me to stay a while to catch up on work I hadn't done. He offered to walk with me because my bike was still at the garage.'

It seemed that her tactic hadn't worked, and she slid into the seat next to her, her attention focused on Clara.

'What's he like?' She asked, hand pressed to her cheek in fascination.

Clara shrugged. 'The same. Well, less shouty, more human.'

'I'm surprised he offered to do anything for you considering you played all those jokes on him.'

Her tone beheld a hint of suspicion and Clara willed herself not to reveal anything through words or through her face. She remained decidedly calm and collective.

'He decided I'm not that bad.'

'What do you think of him, then?'

'I decided he wasn't that bad, either.' She answered matter-of-factly, still pretending to do work as an excuse to avoid eye contact.

'I think he's nice.' River countered, and Clara could feel a burning in the pit of her stomach, churning at the thought of her flirting with him again.

'Yeah, well, I don't think he's interested in women.'

'Why is that?'

'He still lives with his sister.'

River didn't have the chance to answer as the man in question leant on the doorjamb and observed the office.

'River,' he called, 'please go back to your own desk, I think Clara is trying to concentrate on her work.'

River raised her eyebrows at Clara, giving her an uncomfortable look. She would have mouthed a thank you at John except River was still looking between him and Clara and he'd already disappeared behind his door.

Clara wondered whether to risk it as the minutes drew closer to lunch. She wanted to see him, maybe thank him for earlier and apologise for getting up late. Yet River's words and her suspicions heavily conflicted the decision in her mind. Would she say something if she saw her enter his office? Would she be jealous?

As far as Clara knew only a few people had seen her enter his office in the lunch hour, and not many more would have even realised she wasn't there since it was so crowded. She wanted to see him as calm as he'd been earlier, to resume back just a moment to the sweetness of being alone. The clock struck the hour and everyone immediately rushed to the kitchen. John had stated that to sneak out to lunch together wouldn't have been wise, which was understandable, so Clara waited until the majority were somewhere else and snuck into his office.

John looked up to smile weakly but he looked exasperated and stressed, and a million causes passed through her brain until she walked up behind him, crossing her arms over his chest while he scribbled with his pen.

'What's the matter?'

'Nothing. I...it's nothing.'

'You can tell me, John.' She said softly, easing an understanding smirk from his lips.

'This job.' He said simply. It wasn't as elaborate as she would have liked but it was enough. She pressed a kiss to the side of his face, sitting down in the chair opposite him and noticing the alarming redness of his eyes.

'What's wrong with your eyes?'

'Oh, um, visual stress. Too many numbers on the computer.' He deliberately didn't look at her, and Clara got the impression he was being vastly evasive.

'Come on, John, please, tell me. Did someone say something to you? Are you still annoyed about earlier? I came to apologise for not setting the alarm anyway-'

'What, no, I'm not mad about that. And you don't have to apologise for it.'

'Then what's bothering you?'

He seemed to hesitate in telling her something and every second he kept silence she held her breath.

'Honestly, Clara, I'm fine. Please don't, don't bring it up again.'

She sighed defeatedly. There was no way she could make him give her an answer, she just had to trust that he could overcome it.

'I probably should return before they all get too suspicious.'

'Why?' He replied suddenly.

'Well, uh, River's nearly caught on. Nearly caught on as in, she saw us walking down the street together. Nothing too revealing, but she's suspicious anyway because how timely our arrivals were this morning.' Clara's eyes lowered, 'and she seems to have an eye on you.'

'What does that mean?'

'That she's trying to get on to you, John!'

Sometimes he was so blatantly oblivious to other people it was hard to work out why he was working in an office full of them.

He scratched the back of his head nervously. 'God, there's always something, isn't there.'

She moved closer to him, taking his arms in her hands. 'As long as she doesn't get too close.' She teased.

'It's fine, I can handle it. She's certainly no replacement for you.'

Clara couldn't help but smile sweetly, and all at once his lips lowered to hers instantaneously. It was so difficult to resist since their affection could only ever flourish fully in the confinement of her home. Everyone was everywhere around them, so when there was just the briefest of moments alone together, they took whatever they got. Clara wished for one second that he could be twenty years younger, that she could make it known that they liked one another, she could kiss him without the dogma of dozens of people. He wasn't letting go, but she didn't want him to. His hands softly travelled the curve of her head to her waist as her arms looped round his neck. She felt the peace and warmth flood through her from that morning, envelope her quickly so she felt remarkably at ease again in the comfort of his arms. Clara could feel that he was thinking the same thing. Her eyes fluttered open then closed again as he leaned in further-

'John, I wanted to-'

Quicker than a bolt of lightening, they let go of each other and turned round to stare at the intruder. Clara's light and positive energy had been replaced with anger, annoyance and panic. The shocking silence lasted for the longest minute of her life, as River stared at them both and they stared guiltily back. Clara could tell that John's cheeks were starting to turn pink. Shame welled up inside her but also hatred at herself for knowing better. They had gotten away with it so many times that they had taken it for granted. Clara thought she might have passed out in embarrassment until River spoke.

'I knew it!' Was all she exclaimed, and John swiftly shushed her and motioned for her to enter his office. He shut the door behind her and Clara looked down at her feet as she passed.

'I only came in here to say hi, and to bring you some coffee!'

'Uh, how considerate of you. Look-'

'As soon as you arrived late and she followed twenty minutes after I knew it wasn't a coincidence,' River interrupted, 'I saw you both last night walking together, holding hands of all things. You're lucky I haven't told anyone else.'

'Why didn't you? I'm not exactly your favourite person.'

'No,' she conceded, 'but John is.'

They both stared at him before Clara started to try control her anger.

'You need someone older, the same age, John.' she advanced toward him and it made Clara's skin crawl.

'Does it matter?' Clara interjected fiercely.

'We all know it's not exactly the most fitting relationship.'

'Why not?'

'Darling, he's thirty years older than you, more or less.'

'I don't care how old he is!'

'But other people might. All I'm saying is that John would benefit much more from me. I happen to hold him in the same regard as you do.'

'I'm sorry, but I want to be with Clara. Nothing can change that.'

River looked from him to her, incredulously.

'River please, don't expose us. We don't want people to know and start gossiping.'

'I thought you just claimed you didn't care about ageism, so what's the problem?'

'It's not just the age that matters, it's the fact that I'm her boss. I'd hate to think that people would take this and use it negatively to impact Clara. She doesn't deserve that.' His eyes met hers swiftly and within them she saw complete admiration. She sent a thank you back in the softness of her eyes.

River exhaled a long sigh. 'People will find out eventually, you know. I liked you, John, I still like you and you've ruined it for me. So don't blame me if word just happens to get round.'

With that she left quickly, John beckoning her back urgently but with no reply. John stared at Clara, running a nervous hand through his unkempt hair.

'Of all people,' she said shakily, 'it had to be her.'

Clara felt like she was going to collapse. Inevitably people would speculate and start to find out from all the time they spent together, but she hadn't figured it would be so soon. She felt blackmailed by River's method of jealousy. If she really was going to expose their relationship then Clara felt as if she should quit her job right then and there. She didn't think she could face so much gossip and questions and negative comments. Clara always thought of herself as someone who didn't care for what other people thought or did against her, yet when it involved someone she loved, as she was rapidly beginning to fall for him, it felt like a wound to her pride and security. New she did feel smaller than everyone else, belittled by her choices and exposed for everyone else to talk about behind her back. And it made her bloody scared because of how nervous she felt.

John could sense it straight away, and without any consideration of further exploitation he enveloped her within his arms, like shields blocking out everything else. She closed her eyes against his chest, reflecting on how they had progressed since the first day they saw each other. Clara didn't know at all what had been going on but all of a sudden it just happened. Did it matter if it was right or wrong? She'd simply fallen in love.

'Hey, come on, Oswald,' he said, lifting her chin up so he could meet her eyes, 'what's the worst that could happen? River tells everybody, they don't understand how it's happened, they take it out on me for being an older guy and bother you with silly little things that don't matter. Let them gossip if they want. How is it really going to affect us, Clara? It will probably die down a few weeks later anyway.'

'I'd hope you were right,' she appraised, 'if this got round to my family though...my dad, Linda, oh god...'

'Clara, I think you're making it worse than it is, not to mention insulting-'

'It's the shame they'll make me feel for being with you, with someone nearly twice my age...'

'Well, if it really bothers you I could try warm up to River somehow, I don't know.'

'No! No way, that's not going to happen. She'll have her hands all over you.'

'Jesus, no love interest for twenty years and then two all at once. Wondering why I'm suddenly such a big fuss.' He muttered.

'Oh, shut up, it's not funny.' She pushed away from him.

'Am I suddenly some sort of magnet? I don't know what's happened.'

'Seriously, it's not funny. Please don't cosy up to her.'

'Well, what else can I do?' He exclaimed. Clara almost jumped at the sudden power in his voice.

'Not that!' She exclaimed back.

'If I could just try to convince her-'

Clara shook her head vehemently.

'I can't believe you're even being jealous of me just talking to her.'

'I don't trust her at all.'

'And you don't trust me? I'm nearly a sixty year old man and you think I'm going to betray you?'

'You can never tell exactly what River wants and I should know better as I've worked with her longer. She's stupidly stubborn.'

'So are you, but much more explosively so. Look, I don't care if everyone knows now, at least we could be a little bit more open with each other.'

'Maybe I do care! You've got the better side of the stick here.'

'Better!? People will be disgusted with me, not you!'

'But I have family that won't take this at all well, friends and work colleagues. They would want me to marry properly this time and do the normal, domestic thing.'

'What are you trying to say? I'm not marriage material?'

'You'll die before we even get to make a family.'

There was an awkward, heavy silence where John stared at her with a mix of disappointment and deep hurt that caused a riot inside her heart. She felt instantly guilty for the comment yet also hugely surprised she had entertained the idea of marriage and families at all.

'I'm...I'm sorry John, I didn't mean that. I feel awful.'

He simply just turned his back on her, which made her even more regretful, albeit madder.

'All I'm trying to say is, everything's going to impact us if they find out, I mean, the constant insecurity I have of being in public-'

'Why are you with me then?!' He yelled, turning back round to stare her point blank in the face with almost livid eyes.

A threatening silence overcame them once again yet this time there was something much different. They had well forgotten the lunch hour was over but the worst part was that it was completely and eerily quiet outside John's office. They both simultaneously turned their heads toward the door, where the pause of dozens of workers confirmed the horrible truth. It was likely they had heard most of the conversation between them. John was frozen in horror, and with one look at him Clara left the office, allowing the door to bang loudly behind her. Ignoring the entranced stares of everyone else, she grabbed her coat and walked straight out of the room, taking the stairs to avoid confrontation and striding altogether out of the dreaded building toward her motorbike. She had vaguely been aware of John lingering at his door as he watched her leave, but Clara didn't care.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Her head fell into her hands. The silence around her was comforting yet unnatural. She let her hands run down her hair and take hold of her mug, bringing it to her lips as she thought harder and harder. Everyone had only to take one guess about what they were arguing about. Clara had fled from the office as fast as she could but now she was back inside her own flat she found herself lonelier than she had ever felt. It had been so quick, the argument, walking out if there, everything. Just the thought of John made her stomach lurch in regret and sadness. In her flaming anger she had said things only held in the deepest corners of her brain that were never meant to be said. She closed her eyes briefly, watching it all replay painfully under her eyelids. It wasn't fair to treat him that way and Clara knew she was being petty and overly dramatic just because of what impacted her, selfishly not taking his problems into account. It was her problem if she didn't like being in public with him, her problem if she found she couldn't share her relationship with everyone else, not his. It was making her feel nauseous at the amount of remorse she felt. Remembering just the look on his face plagued her. It was never his fault, and she had only recently reminded herself. All he wanted was to love her, she guessed and she wanted the same thing but always there was something stopping her. Social life, family, even Missy. Things that shouldn't matter in the grand scheme of things, people that would have to accept and come to accept over time. Yet Clara couldn't make herself move from her seat, to phone him or text him or even to drive back to the office to say sorry personally. It was the shame she had set upon herself from the moment of walking out and everyone watching her. Maybe she should wait until he finished work, but that would be hours. If anything she was still fuming about River's audacity, and would hate to think what she was doing now, still in the same vicinity of John. She was conflicted in jealousy and hate but wanted to resolve everything immediately. But again, Clara couldn't find any motive to and it maddened her. Stumbling to her bed she decided that work could be put off until Monday. She couldn't face him anytime this week, nor anyone else. And it would give her time to think about how to make it up to him. Slumping down in bed she pulled the duvet close to her chin, briefly imagining John behind her with his light snoring and untamed hair, and then closed her mind of all thought and all vision.

He had stood there in the doorway a few seconds longer than necessary, wishfully thinking she would turn back and smile at him the way she had that morning. It took all of his strength to command everyone back to work and traipse gloomily back into his office. He closed the door immediately, afraid of being intruded by someone, especially River. Perhaps there was old rivalry between her and Clara but he knew that Clara was hurt between their association anyway. Maybe it was just a woman's jealous instincts or Clara's own personal feelings. Either way, he was mad at being blamed for his friendship with other women. Even if River hadn't confessed her feelings for him he couldn't believe how defensive Clara had been about it. And she expected his trust just as much as he expected her trust. He felt already like there was a hole somewhere already, an ache or gap in between his two lungs, his chest painfully throbbing and rising up the back of his throat...he coughed. Violently, spluttering everywhere until he found tissues. He kept on coughing until it dissipated, which felt like an age before he recovered. He wished that no one had heard it, but wished even more that Clara was there right then, because he felt he needed her more than ever. He could imagine her small hands rubbing his back, gently whispering in his ear with concern. The pain then would have been tolerable in her presence. Maybe it had grown worse now because of the argument. He rested back in his chair, tissue discarded in the bin below him, feeling like hell but not knowing if it was sickness or mental torment. For the first time in a very long time, a single tear managed to escape the glossiness in his eyes. He felt hazy and hurt, still reminding himself of how he shouted at Clara and her retaliations. He knew he shouldn't have shouted, but knew also it was just the build up of all the bullshit he had to endure about shame and disgust if anyone found out. Which obviously made him angry, and for the first time he thought she had been using him all along. What hurt even more was the disappointment of being rejected from a family life. 'You'll die before we even get to make a family,' swam round his head like a virus. Even though she had apologised he had hardly heard nor made sense of it. All he could think of was death, death, death and the prospect of Clara moving on. He didn't think he could bear her gone or with another man, even when there was so much rage inside his heart. It was crazy to think that there had been so little and so much carelessness in his life before Clara had entered and changed absolutely everything. All the things he had regarded as normal had all been turned upside down and now the threat of living without Clara terrified him more than his own illness. What a fantasy world, he thought, rubbing his face with his hands. Did nothing just matter anymore except Clara?

It had all happened faster than he could have imagined it, one moment swearing his allegiance and the next being accused of breaking it. John still wanted answers but he had to work on. Even though Clara had left and everyone now knew of the secret relationship between colleague and boss, he still had to focus on managing a business. Life's a bitch.

He was still swaying in his chair slightly when everyone had finally left. He had still been working when the last person went and now he was deliberating the chair across from him. It was now about the time Clara would smile and laugh and joke at him and they'd go home together. But she was as absent as his mind.

Getting through the rest of the day had been easy enough, entertaining his brain with diversions and figures on computers to subvert his thoughts of anything else. But now everything was still and silent and unbearable. Staring crossly at the chair a moment more, he promptly shut down his computer and gathered up his things. He tied his scarf around his neck double tight to prevent more coughing and shrugged on his coat he had once let Clara borrow for warmth. He didn't want to go home, or face Missy. He certainly wasn't going to find refuge at Clara's flat. All he wanted was a place that was crowded with people and so didn't make his brain think. John could imagine such a place but knew danger signs would be flashing everywhere if he dared step inside one. Getting inside his car and starting the engine he made his decision. Fuck work, fuck Missy, fuck his illness. He was alone and upset and he needed cheering up.

It was just as body-tight as he knew it would be when he entered the thriving club. He hadn't set foot in one for years and already he felt out of place. But that didn't matter. As he sat down on a stool and the music blared and throbbed through his heart, he scanned the crowd. All men and women of all ages and shapes and sizes. There were a dozen lined up on the stools beside him alone. He asked for a drink. Then another, then another. The hours seemed to wear on but he didn't notice or feel them float by. His mind was more disorganised and nauseous then than it had been since his youth and he felt mildly sick but he drank on, drowning in his sorrows and thoughts of Clara with each swig he took. He knew still amongst all the confusion and blurriness it was bad for him. Worse for him than anyone else there, but he didn't care at all. He couldn't even make himself care as he finished another pint and moved on to the next. He knew he would regret it enormously the next day but he needed to stop feeling things and remembering things and thinking things. He coughed again for the umpteenth time in a row, excusing himself from his seat to make way to the toilet. He wouldn't mind being sick because he knew what could be worse. His eyes temporarily shifted to the mirror in front of him, his eyes slightly red and his pupils rolling a tiny bit. He was the most drunk he'd probably ever been in appearance. His tie was unfixed from his loosened shirt and somehow he had lost his jacket. It was hard to focus on himself as he evaluated his hair. It was now neither curls nor completely flat, but a shocking mess of grey ruffled from the amount of times he had run his wiry hands through it. He coughed again, catching it on his tissue and feeling as if the world was disorienting the very ground beneath him. He had had too much, he knew he had had too much and yet he wanted more. More antidote to the freshly cut wound.

It shouldn't have been that bad, it was only an argument. It wasn't even what people call 'a break up'. But from all the years spent unfeeling and now the shock of caring too much, he needed to go return to his unsentimental roots. Staggering out of the toilet he made his way to the open doors, relishing in the cold and frosty night air he so needed. Everything he owned was in his car that he'd sneakily parked at his own house before setting off again to find the night scene. Then, he had almost decided not to go, to resign to his bed and watch crap TV. But the temptation had been too driven inside of him already and he had entered upon the foolish path of his unmaking. As he breathed in the air he began to miss his jacket. His shoulders were shuddering, his chest felt exposed and his neck was no longer wrapped tightly in protection but he ignored all of it and stared up at the sky with its dotted stars. There were groups of people everywhere outside the club. John looked to a woman throwing up on the pavement with her friend beside her, to a few others sitting on benches discussing their problems, to a group of young men laughing as they all lit up their cigarettes. John stared longingly at the gesture, remembering the feeling of releasing billowing smoke from his mouth after a day down in the factory, almost twenty years ago. The most dangerous of all, yet the most desirable. Everything felt backward today.

Bravely, he asked for one, too much past the point of caring to consider what he was doing. Bringing it to his lips, he dragged on it as coolly as if it were only yesterday. All at once, calm settled over him and stopped the twitch in his shoulders, but added to the disoriented feeling of unbalance he sweetly welcomed. Not even managing to think anymore, he took another drag as the smoke rose up into the air and evaporated. He reflected on it and half-smiled as he put the cigarette in his mouth again. A whole moment seemed to pass before he realised he was falling, choking vigorously to replace the coughing that he thought was tame to the pain it caused him now, racking his whole body with every convulsion. He vaguely felt hands cross his line of vision, an outcry of blurred noise surrounding him as his head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. He didn't feel the pain of it however, and soon even the choking died, the confusion of heads and shouts and limbs hurting his brain. John suddenly felt his whole body shut down, the abandoned, half-lit cigarette rolling from his lifeless fingers as his vision swam before his eyes and eventually his eyelids closed.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As soon as she woke up she felt a sharp pain in her chest. She couldn't identify how or why, or even the exact location of it. It was like a clear ache behind her heart, knocking at her ribs. And then she realised why; she remembered what she'd done.

Clara sat up in her bed, rubbing her head and blinking her eyes to clear her sight. Still blurry with sleep, she fixed on a point, the objects on her chest of drawers, sighting an unfamiliar oddity amongst all her own. A watch. Glittering from the light of the lampshade that was still humming with electricity. She squinted further, recognising the clock face with its ticking hands gently moving about the numbers. It was too large to be hers, the clasp set wide enough for a fairly large but spidery wrist. With another ounce of pain, she thought of John. How she'd disgraced him and still hadn't apologised; the guilt stabbing at her heart now she was awake again. It was only then she realised it was nighttime. Clara hadn't expected to sleep through dinner and the evening in general, but the exhaustion and remorse seemed to have worn her out considerably. Her head turned, and her ears tuned in to the sound of her awakening; her phone was buzzing on the countertop, ringing repetitively and slicing through the silence uncomfortably. Hazily, she turned around almost blindly to receive it, the lit up screen instantly hurting her eyes. When she saw the name of the caller ID she was instantly confused. The time read quarter to 2 in the morning. Clara suddenly felt nervous as she accepted the call and held it to her ear. She hoped she wasn't in for a lecture.

'Hello?' She answered sleepily, stifling a yawn.

'Clara.' Missy replied strickeningly, an unusual tone unnatural for her normal cunning voice. She identified the need and strain in her voice and it immediately made Clara worried.

'What is it, what's the matter, are you alright?' She rambled quickly. Clara felt the ache in her chest multiply with each agonising second.

'It-it's John. I'm here already, I thought you would want to know and see him-'

'Where? Where are you?'

'The hospital.'

The two words struck her completely, her eyes widened and the pounding of her heart seemed to feel as if it would burst out of her chest any minute. Each breath was a struggle to perform.

Her hands were slack and the phone was fast slipping out of her grasp. Faintly, barely a hushed whisper of horror, she answered back.

'What's his condition, is he stable?'

'Barely just stable, but not awake.'

She felt like screaming, and nearly did, a silent yell being made with the forming of her lips parting to release her shock and pain.

'How long can you get here?'

Clara hardly heard the reply. A mix of remorse and guilt and their last conformation and his face all swam before her head like a tormenting nightmare.

'I'll be there in five minutes.'

After hastily hanging up she shot up out of bed like a lightning bolt, grabbing any t-shirt from her wardrobe and various clothes strewn from the floor, running through to the kitchen and snatching her helmet along with her coat and hurrying outside. Starting up her motorbike with enormous speed, she zoomed down the road as if in a race and anxious to get to the finish line. It took approximately seven minutes to get to the hospital, but the roads were bare and deserted apart from a few cars, the lights adamantly staying green, and along with Clara's burning determination to get there as soon as possible, it would take only a few. It was extremely cold, but she didn't care. All she could think about was earlier on that day, walking out on him, his face angry and exasperated and so incredibly hurt. It threatened to tear her apart. Soon, she was parking in the hospital car park, not even waiting a second to deposit her helmet in the usual place. She ran as fast as she could toward the entrance, breathlessly asking the surprised receptionist where John Smith was being held. The hospital had a few occupants round the main area but as she briskly ran deeper through the labyrinth of corridors and hallways, there weren't many at all. It wasn't a good sign.

Finally, after two wrong turns and a plea for directions from a nurse passing by, she made it to the room. The door was slightly ajar and as soon as she walked in she stopped. Everything seemed to slow down, all around her, the rush to get there no longer a problem. The beating of her heart rapidly decreased from the adrenaline of driving and running so fast. She focused on the covers of the bed, leading to a neck and a head exposed, his eyelids shut calmly and a shock of wild grey hair still standing on end. She blinked, swallowed and tried to stop the array of emotions from getting to her.

'That was quick.'

She turned her head, surprised at the voice. She hadn't even noticed anyone else in the room but John. Missy was sat in a hard plastic chair and sounded the most poignant she'd ever heard her, which wasn't too emotional anyway. Clara had met her only twice but Missy had set her up with John's old phone number and her own. She had suspected at the time it was a crafty act of prying but now she felt immensely glad she had her number. So glad she thought even about hugging her comfortingly, though Clara knew from John she wasn't a people person.

'How is he?' She asked, her throat tighter than she would have expected, voice still retaining panic.

'As I said, stable. He hasn't been conscious since he fainted though.'

'He fainted. What happened to him?' Clara tried to maintain as strong a tone as she could.

'The silly boy went and got himself drunk for god's sake, even though he knows he's not meant to. From what I've heard from witnesses he started smoking as well. I tell you, when he wakes up he's going to get a smack and a half. Stupid man. He hasn't gone near a club for absolute years, so I suspect it has something to do with you or his work. He's never been good with sharing his feelings.'

Clara had to take a second to process what she'd said. To think he'd been so hung up about her he'd gone and wasted himself away in a club, to end up in hospital. All it had taken was a stupid bloody argument that Clara now felt was petty and ridiculous and all her fault. She had said things she didn't mean, and he had taken them for true. If only she had apologised sooner, if only she had stayed at work and not been jealous. If only she wasn't so insecure of having an older boyfriend. The thought crushed her into little pieces of shame and agony. She felt tremendously responsible. As she stared at him longingly to wake up, something Missy had said came back to her. Her eyebrows creased in confusion and she directed it towards Missy.

'What...what did you mean when you said he's not meant to.' She asked incredulously.

Missy stared back at with an empathetic look she didn't like.

'Oh, Clara,' she whispered, 'he never told you?'

Clara's head reeled. 'Told me what?' She said cautiously, half scared to hear the answer.

'Clara...he has cancer.'

The word hit her like a blow to the head. She stumbled back, horrified, her eyes suddenly transfixing on the pale figure unmoving in his bed. He looked more like a ghost now than he already had. Suddenly it all made sense. Missy's reluctance to let him stay over, his terrible coughing, even his debt. She now understood why; all his money went on cancer treatment. Clara tried to contain her emotions, a mix of hysteria and pain and sadness and shock and selfish madness at him for not telling her. Yet all of this raged on under the surface, her eyes piercing and unmoving from his body, her own frozen to the spot. Missy said nothing, and she was glad she didn't. After minutes of awkward silence and studying his frame, she noticed his fingers suddenly twitching. Almost instantaneously the women leaped to action and sprung by his head, hopeful he would wake up. A few seconds later his eyelids flickered in that woozy, half open half closed way, and Clara could tell he was straining to make sense of the clinical white ceiling and its bright lights shining down at him. When he spoke it was a husky, almost throaty whisper that said only a word and made shivers run down her spine.

'Cla...ra...' He tried, his voice nearly illegible and tired. Clar-a...Clara.'

He couldn't see her but she could see he needed her, wanted her desperately. The first thought that came to him when he woke up was her. That's the type of person that Clara knew she couldn't let go of. Missy looked up at her, obviously surprised of her profound importance to him and made way for her to sit in the seat beside him. She even marched to the door, called back 'I'll leave you two alone,' and exited the room. Clara was confused as to why Missy would leave when John was waking up but she wasn't complaining. She needed to apologise to him, and she'd prefer to make her apologies alone.

As soon as Clara's attention focused back onto him a deep sadness welled up in her eyes and grew deep in the lines of her face, her sorrowful frown affecting her dimples in her cheeks. His hands were thin and weathered, spidery with prominent veins and deft, like an artist's. He was hooked up to an IV and all sorts of wires ran across him attached to different areas of his body; even a cannula ran across his face. It was such an unbearable sight to see him like that she almost had a breakdown. He seemed so frail and weak now, to the fiery, witty boss she was so used to.

She reached out a hand and gently stroked his hair, combing her fingers through his unruffled curls and listening to the sound of his breaths inhale and exhale.

Finally, he could sense and exactly see that she was there, and as he looked into her eyes the first thing he did was sigh. Clara couldn't tell if it was exasperated or happy, but probably somewhere in between.

'I'm sorry.' She began, her voice cracking at the words. 'I never meant to-' she shook her head as she tried to find more words over the onslaught of becoming tears. John stared at her and smiled, which made Clara even more heartbroken than she already was. It felt like the worst kind of joke to have upset John Smith and then be instantly forgiven with a serene smile.

'Clara,' he repeated, 'it's okay. I'll be okay. You can't get rid of me that easily.'

'Don't joke about that.' She whispered, shaking her head in disapproval. 'From what Missy told me you could have died.'

'Oh come on, Clara,' he laughed lightly, 'I couldn't have died, it's just me being silly and forgetting I'm a bit older now-'

'John, Missy told me. And I understand perfectly. I understand everything now.'

His face wavered but naively tried to divert the subject.

'John, why didn't you tell me?' She cut across him, a dejected whisper leaving him uncomfortable. From the tone of her voice his face became crestfallen with shame.

'I didn't want to tell you. I didn't think I needed to tell you.' He croaked back.

'Of course you needed to tell me! What do you think I would do? Walk out on you, never speak to you again, go off you because you had cancer? Of course not!'

'Clara, you don't understand. I knew I should've told you but I didn't want you to suddenly fuss over me, or treat me in a different way. I wanted to feel good enough for you, I wanted to feel young again and being with you did. I've been younger than I ever have for the past two decades.'

'None of it would have changed because you had cancer.' She whispered, closing her eyes briefly to dispel the moisture from her eyes which had not yet fully spilt.

'All the coughing, the over-exerting yourself. You shouldn't have been running or drinking or bloody smoking any time at all just because of me. You're paying for the money to heal yourself John, it's the reason you're in debt, so heal yourself. Stop trying to impress me by running after me and pleasing me. I know I said some awful things to you that aren't true at all and that I don't mean, but to go off and knowingly start trying to smoke again isn't right! I don't know what you were possibly thinking but it wasn't of your health.'

John just stared impassively up at the ceiling. She knew she'd have to prompt him again into starting to confide in her.

'John, please...all I want is some answers.'

He seemed to deliberate for a moment that seemed to turn into an eternity. Clara waited until finally he opened his mouth, although still he avoided eye contact and remained staring motionless up at the bright lights above him.

'I was diagnosed with lung cancer two years ago. I was retired and lived on my own. I didn't have anyone to turn to, not many friends, no longer any family...except Missy. She moved to America way back in '89 and obviously our parents died when I was younger. She came back to England to help me with the illness and the treatment. She made a lot of money over in the States, enough to move in to a rent house with me and pay for some of my treatment. It's why I went for the job at the publishing company, and Missy got a job too to support me with the money. It was all going well for the first year I needed treatment as we had most of it sorted, and I wasn't coughing as much but by the time I was working my condition grew a little worse because of all the stress and the shouting,' he explained. Clara felt an enormous stab of guilt for playing all those pranks on him. It was probably why he was so angry with her in the beginning for toying with him while he struggled with his illness.

'I was okay with it really until my coughing got out of control again just before we, you know, and I went back to the doctors who told me that my cancer had gone wild again. But,' he said, his eyes now trying to sought hers, 'you've made me forget. About all of it. There isn't a moment of pain when I'm around you. And I know I should look after myself and look after my stupid fucking cancer...but whatever you do, I do, and you've made me feel so young.'

'But why did you have to do this to yourself, John?' She gestured to the transparent tubes running up and down his body like a matrix of wires.

'Because when I'm with you, I don't feel the pain. And I guess, last night I had to drown my pain out because I felt you weren't there to do it for me.'

The words he spoke then was crushing, resounding in her head and she felt like she could never forget those words again in her life.

She silently laced her fingers with his, gripping onto his hand like she could never let go.

'Please, don't be the second time. I don't need a second time.' She prayed, thinking about last time, standing next to a box, wearing black, rain beating her in the face. She couldn't go through with it again.

'What do you mean?' He asked, obviously having heard her small whispered prayer.

She hung her head with a sigh, not technically a sad one but a knowing one. 'You're not the only one with secrets. We're not very good with trust, are we?' She questioned; and in return he nodded in agreement.

'But I will tell you someday. Just not right here, and not right now.' She looked up at him again, at his expression just passing for a light smile and his sparkling eyes catching the light from up above. He had such a warm look about him when he smiled or was at peace; like a completely different person. She couldn't begin to imagine the pain he was in and yet he came across as if nothing had even affected him at all. His gaze made her heartbeat flutter and skip in her chest, a feeling she hadn't felt for someone since all those years ago.

'I might be slowly dying,' he cut into the silence, 'but at least I can say I love you before I do.'

Clara abruptly looked up into his face, the words hitting her like a ton of bricks, and suddenly the pent up tears spilled down her cheeks one by one. She hated that he had resigned himself to the notion of 'slowly dying' but realised that it was the first time he had actually confessed and told her he loved her.

She lifted his hand up to kiss it, her eyes never leaving his. She felt her hot tears dry eventually and carefully reached over him to place a small, meaningful kiss on his lips, cradling his cheeks. His hand never left hers and he gripped it tightly while he assumed a more comfortable position.

The door opened and Missy came in, noticing their intertwined fingers. 'Is it alright if I speak to John?'

Clara nodded, looked back to John, and assured him. 'I'll be right outside.'

'Go home, go back to sleep.'

'I'm not leaving until you are,' she smiled, 'I'll try to sleep a little somewhere around this hospital. Or I'll be in the cafe all night.'

He smiled in return, caressing her fingertips until he let them go. 'Okay,' he accepted.

Her hand felt cold when she walked away from the bed, turning round to watch him a last time before closing the door behind her.

Clara yawned, muffling it beneath her hand and squinting her eyes at the streak of sunlight filtering through the windows. She had slept the few remaining hours of the night on the row of hard plastic chairs outside John's room and had spent the rest of her time in the cafe that had gratefully opened at 6:30. She took another sip of her tea and propped a book she had borrowed back down on the table as she stretched wide in her seat. It was 8:27 now, she noticed and the cafe had filled up just a little bit more with each passing hour. Her back still ached from the rigidity of the chairs but apart from that she was fine. It had been only dreams plagued with worry that had caused her trouble. Clara counted down the minutes and hoped Missy would come soon reporting his condition and that he was awake. So far only the book had been able to subvert her attention successfully, although it was fast becoming irrelevant. She pondered the small gift shop in the corner and decided to look for something to give to John once it opened. Her eyes scanned the opening times, and found that it was opening in half an hour. She waited patiently, wandering around and pacing down corridors in the meantime, cursing with every step that she hadn't brought her bag with her in the rush to get here, which contained her headphones. She had deliberated driving back home to get a few things but decided that she'd rather not leave John just in case. After all, Missy and herself was all he had.

Purchasing another sandwich, she noticed the gift shop open and immediately spotted a bunch of grapes, which she knew would amuse John. Waiting in a hospital Clara decided, was now most likely her biggest hamartia. She was impatient and scarred with anxiety for loved ones after the last effort to love and be loved. She knew that John having cancer didn't change him but it was bound to change her. Not that she ever wanted to admit that to him, especially after he told her he loved her the very first time. She replayed the words in his voice over and over in her head; his tone had been the most sentimental she had ever heard it, soft and unrecognisable. Like an angel's voice that could drift her off to Heaven. She knew that regardless of the cancer she would never forget that, and never stop her love for him in return. It was the notion that it could worsen that made Clara's stomach churn, and John being an older man was a factor she hoped could not affect it. If she lost him too, she would become lost.

Clara circled back to the window, now pouring through its light and almost blinding her with it. She took it as a sign things would get better when it was supposed to be another cold, grey winters day. All of a sudden, a hand on her shoulder made her heart jump and when she turned around she was surprised by the gentleness of it. Missy was staring into her face with an optimism Clara herself could gain.

'He's awake again. And calling for you, obviously.'

Clara felt like for the first time all night she could breathe again. She raced toward the exit corridor when Missy's voice called her back.

'And Clara,' she called, 'thank you for staying the night for him. You didn't have to. And for once, we've got to say something nice. He'll get even grumpier if we don't.'

Clara nodded and ran off down the polished floors, doors leading out to different rooms almost with each step. Finally, she recognised the seats she had slept on. Checking it was the right room, she found him lying there with his face skyward, eyes suddenly swivelling to the door and mouth forming a smile Clara couldn't bear to resist. She moved forward, placing her hand over his, fingers gripping hers and looping them round her hand. His eyes shone with tiredness but also from seeing her.

'I bought you somethig.' She offered, watching his face deflate.

'Oh no.'

She produced the bunch of grapes and he immediately scowled.

'Well, you're a sick person and every sick person should get a bunch of grapes.' She responded.

He sighed, but allowed her to sit him further upright and pop one in his mouth. Watching him absentmindedly eat the fruit while his eyes scanned the room, she felt a wave of guilt wash over her again. Sometimes he was so innocent beyond his years, it was hard to believe he was the same man.

'John.' She said, his eyes piercing hers suddenly with a heat she couldn't pull away from, 'I'm sorry. Unbelievably sorry, you know that don't you? Everything I said is not true. I'm so sorry this happened to you, I had no idea-'

'Don't worry, Clara. It was my own fault for stupidly thinking it was a great idea to get drunk,' he snorted, 'don't let me do that again. I should have known not to push my luck. I have cancer, after all.'

The finality of his sentence crushed her from within. It was hard to come to grips with still, even though she'd been thinking about it all night.

'It's still my fault. If I hadn't just walked out there...'

'I still would've wanted to impress you to the ends of the earth. This has at least given me a rude awakening from the fantasy world I thought I was in. I'm half expecting you to disappear any moment.'

'I'm staying right here.' She said firmly. The colour in his cheeks had returned, and the focus of his eyes was clearer.

'I know. You're the one thing I could never dream up, even in my wildest dreams.'

Clara couldn't help the solitary tear running down her face as she smiled. She had forgotten how gentle and sensitive he could be.

'Well,' she sniffed, 'I don't care what anyone thinks anymore.'

'Even your dad?' He tested.

'Even my dad.' She replied, leaning in to capture his lips. Her hands rippled through his hair and his mouth was soft on hers, unusually tender. It nearly took her breath away.

'I love you too.' She whispered, without any hesitation. She didn't need any prompting anymore. She knew it like she knew her own soul. His hands enfolded her so they were wrapped up in a web running across their bodies. They didn't move from their position for a moment, but when she eventually withdrew he kissed her forehead and gripped her hand tight.

'John,' a voice rang out. They turned and saw Missy, loitering by the door. 'The doctors are going to give you more drugs for you're treatment. Thankfully, no further harm has been done but you'll be pleased to know you have completely fucked your lungs up.' John laughed.

'You'll be good again like you were before in a few weeks. They're thinking of discharging you tomorrow night. Don't get your hopes up though.'

'Thank god,' he sighed relievedly, 'being surrounded by these pudding brains has been enough to to last me a lifetime.'

'John, for once you can't call them pudding brains. They saved you, practically.'

'Look at my dear sister showing emotion for her baby brother.' He snickered.

'Shut up, Johnathan.' Missy parted.

Clara turned to him. 'Johnathan?'

'Not my actual name, I assure you. She used to wind me up by calling me that when I was younger.'

'What a loving relationship you had.'

He grunted, raising his attack eyebrows.

'Clara, you need to get back to your flat. You shouldn't stay here until tomorrow.'

'What if I don't want to?' She persisted, laying her head over his hand.

'Because I'll see you everyday after that if you want. Just don't put yourself through another night of hard plastic chair.'

'The offer does sound rather fair.'

'Yes, it does. I'm honoured you stayed the horrible night for me. I'm okay now, as you can see.'

'Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a much needed shower.'

'Of course. Have fun.'

'How dare you try get rid of me already.'

'I'm just thinking about you, Clara.' He joked. 'I'll see you Monday, if you wish.'

Clara twisted round to face him. 'You're going to work straight away?!'

'No, apparently I have to take the whole week off. We're not going back to work until I can be bothered to get up and return.'

'We?'

'I don't really care if they think we're being unreliable, do you?'

She grinned in return. 'Nope.'

She kissed him again and said goodbye, knowing that if there was any person to recover from sheer will it would be John Smith.

Taking a last look, she saw him hold up her packet of grapes, putting one in his mouth and smiling. As she closed the door, she kept the image in her head, and replayed it all the way back home.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Clara laughed, his mouth just below her ear when he had said it. His grip on her was tight despite being weak. Arms looped round his shoulders, he pressed a small kiss to her cheek as she rolled onto her back, taking him with her, her legs wrapped securely around his thighs. Although clothed she could feel his body against hers just like it was before; perfect, fitting, melding into her own like a jigsaw piece. His weight pressing down on her wasn't crushing or painful at all. It was heavy but comforting, her face resting on his shoulder, shifting her legs every so often but never escaping the region of his hips. After a pause of silence, John leaned backward to look at her properly, his lips immediately capturing hers and Clara gratefully accepting. She felt as if it had been too long since they had been content and happy with their mouths twisting and hands wandering; tongues fumbling but teeth forming smiles against the others' mouth. Clara hadn't checked the time since the night before but she guessed it was around noon by now. She gazed lazily out of the window, a crack in the curtains sustaining them with all the light they needed. Clara could feel his lips on her neck and turned, smiling dazedly at him and his still twinkling eyes.

'We've spent all day in bed.' She commented, her eyes following to the shock of static grey bed hair that stuck up in every direction.

'I can't think of a better way to spend a morning.'

'Afternoon now, I reckon.' She corrected.

'Time doesn't matter at the moment.' He said. Now she knew the truth, the words felt as if they had a deeper meaning to them. She'd be lying if she said she had accepted he was dying, but lying even more if his own acceptance of his death was any better.

Lately she had been actively pushing away the dark thoughts that had threatened to overthrow her mind. She constantly reminded herself o keep making new memories of him, don't think about it when he's right there, so very much alive. Nonetheless, she knew that she had a pretty cursed taste in men.

'Have you thought about work yet?' She asked.

'Not once since being in your company. But I have decided on an extension of maybe a week and a half, or two even, just because I need to strengthen not only my body but my voice for yelling at people.'

She laughed in response. 'Well you know I can't escape it that long.'

'I guess you're right. You can receive the privilege of shouting at people for me while I'm away.'

'I'm honoured.' She answered, kissing him while her fingertips traced the growing stubble on his jawline. His hands delightfully threaded through her hair and Clara instantly forgot all worries.

'I love you.' She sighed, pecking his lips twice again when he responded the same. She felt she needed to say it like he had done back at the hospital, instigating it, reaffirming it. The pleasant shiver that seated her heart was cause to his confirmation, and the thrill of hearing those words made it beat faster.

'I'm sure that's not the first time you've said that to somebody.'

'No. But it will be my last.'

The flutter inside her chest only grew when his mouth collided and attached itself back to hers again like a magnet, the words circling around her head so many times the words almost lost their meaning.

His thumbs were gently making a trail down her shoulders to her thighs, massaged caressingly which Clara instantly took advantage of. His body was against her so much she could hear the beats of his heart. Every ragged breath he took panicked her with the prospect of pain. But his smile was a genuine one as he caught her hands and kissed her forehead.

'Back at the hospital,' he said gently, 'you said something about 'second times,' and told me to ask you again another day. Can I ask now?'

Clara had dreaded this question ever since she had let it slip in her moment of desperation. It was only natural for him to be curious but it was the thought of bringing up the past to John that hurt her the most. She had agreed she wouldn't ever fuse both past and present but she had to supply him with an answer that he deserved, a painful, albeit truthful one at that. Clara couldn't look in his eyes; she turned softly, and John took the message as he slid down beside her, his face pressed to her hair and body aligned both on their sides. His arms held her but didn't press too hard. She sensed he knew he had overstepped some sort of mental barrier.

'We both kept secrets from each other,' she said finally, 'and I haven't been completely honest with you either.' She sighed. At least she didn't have to do this facing him.

'Before you came to the publishers, around two years ago now, I was in love with another man. Although younger and a little less hot-tempered, I felt reminded of him by you. And not just in characteristic...in name.'

The pause that followed was pressing around her and she tried to keep with telling the story.

'Doctor John and I were engaged. And then...' She swallowed, closed her eyes and tried to resist the resurgence of unbearable memories. 'The day before the wedding he was killed.' She choked.

Silence followed as her shoulders shook and John steadied them softly. He still made no comment.

'I was distraught. My whole life had just been taken away from me. For months on end I was still severely in denial and trying to cope with the loss. Everything had to be taken back, all the wedding plans, the holiday. The flat we had bought together is my flat now. I've been trying to repay the debt for it for two years now, since John had been the earner and I was only part time. I found the job at the publishers a month or so later. And when you came...I felt drawn to you. Drawn to you, but frustrated. All those silly jokes, it was all just trying to remind myself you weren't the same man because I saw that you had the same spirit and the same way of doing things and I was scared I would fall for another John. It seems I have a tragic taste in men.'

To John now, it made sense. And it broke his heart that hers had been broken. But he had started to heal it. Maybe even fix it back together. He thought about the pills in the cupboard, the veins on his weak wrists pulsing with bad blood. She had just had her heart broken once again.

'Clara,' he coaxed, his voice compelling her to turn around. When he saw her face he saw the lining of moisture around her eyes. 'I'm sorry.' He said gravely and deeply, 'I'm so, so sorry.' His arms folded her into him, now fully aware of the impact his illness now made on her. Two John's, both men she loved, dying. It felt like the cruelest twist of fate.

'Describe him to me.' He beckoned, soothing her with his fingers slowly stroking her hair.

'He was funny, and delusional. Childish. Bow ties and tweed coats. Brown floppy hair and bright green eyes. Big chin.' She seemed to smile against him as if reminiscing a very fond memory. John felt a bolt of both jealousy and stark realisation run down his spine at the horror of the situation. If John hadn't died, Clara would be his wife; it was likely she wouldn't have ever met him at the publishers, and he wouldn't have ever fallen in love with her. Somehow, he felt he owed everything to the first John that had preceded in loving and caring for Clara but also a sad gratefulness. It was as if John had passed her onto another John to be cared for and it so happened to have been him. And then a striking thought occurred to him.

'You...you still love him, don't you?' He asked, hushed and quiet.

'I've gotten over him. Ever since I met you. I did love him, very much so. Sometimes I wish he were still here, obviously.' She turned to face him now and stared him dead in the eyes. 'But I love you now. And differently. You're both loved beyond everything and anything in the universe, and there's no competition. I love you, John. And I don't love you for the memories of the Doctor, or as a substitute for him. I love you purely and wholly for you.'

It was a hard story to tell to another lover, but John knew that she meant every word and that the love she spoke of was real. And he couldn't be jealous; instead, it was a blessing Doctor John had lived and loved to enlighten his own lifetime with Clara.

'I'm sorry, it's a hard story to have told me. I understand now, everything. Even about all the jealousy of River and the night in the car park. And I know that I'm dying now, but I'll give up anything to make it last as long as possible.'

With those words hanging in the air, she held tighter to him and positioned her head at the base of his neck, her fingers drawing patterns in the fabric of his t-shirt.

'You don't have to talk about him again if you want.' He told her, and immediately the tension in her body relaxed. Clara was grateful he had understood. She hadn't wanted to burden him with the shadow of another man's life but he had taken it well enough. Almost too well, she thought. Clara had been most scared to tell him just in case he hit the roof or didn't want her anymore. Now, looking back on it, she knew she had been a fool.

'I pray now everyday in hope you'll get better. I know I'm kidding myself. I just thought we would have lasted longer.'

'Well, I'm not dead yet.'

Clara closed her eyes as she laughed. 'I can't say anything without it sounding wrong.'

'The clash of the colleagues. Who will outfight the other? No bets left now, but I've still got a few more rows in me.'

'I'd be delighted to receive them.'

'Clara, I know that it's only been a few months, and I'm dying...but I really would like to live with you.'

The proposition hung in the air and Clara's heart fluttered with the possibility. She could imagine him in the space of her flat, lounging on the sofa in ridiculous pyjamas, running late and having to skip breakfast, clinging onto her while she rode her motorbike, in bed sprawled out, snoring softly. Suddenly all she wanted was him in her flat, coming home and knowing he was there to love her and relieve her of everything around her. It had been too long living alone, and now he had asked her she couldn't have thought of anything more perfect.

'I'd love you to,' she nodded. 'In my flat, obviously.'

'Oh, I wouldn't have dreamed of tearing you away from that place. This home doesn't really feel homely to me anyway, it's Missy's more than mine.'

'Where did you say she was again?'

'Out with some poor fella. I feel sorry for him.'

Clara felt the sheers and fisted them up into a ball. She eyed the light shining through the curtains and looked coyly into his eyes. He smiled, his thin lips twisting while he leaned down to kiss her. She took him all in, no longer feeling the weight of untold secrets on her shoulders. She felt lighter, having told him her troubles and him telling her about his. Now, they were just two souls who knew they belonged. She straddled him, gently lifting up his shirt, careful with his body. She leaned into him softly, her fingers holding his chin and her lips grazing his. He smiled and wrapped his arms around her, fully drawing her to him. They slid further down the pillows, his arms returning the favour and discarding her top. Even though his body was diseased with cancer, he was more beautiful than ever and his strong arms didn't falter. Her hands splayed his chest, John pulling the duvet further toward them. Clara couldn't fathom how he made her feel like this, but it was real and pure and everything she had ever wanted. Everything that had happened in the last few days erased from her mind with every touch she felt, heavenly against her skin. She looked at him and felt warmth. It expanded through her chest to the tips of her toes. His smile lit up the room and imprinted into her memory forever. She dove down, mouth pressed lovingly on his. It didn't matter that he was dying, or that she had had her heart broken. Right then, right now it was just him and her.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, this is the last chapter I'm sorry for irregular updates and such, I've had a very busy year and I don't think I will be handling longfics any time soon, although I've immensely enjoyed writing this fic. I might come back with a few short stories or added chapters to some of my others but now all I can say is I love every one of you people who read, favourite, follow and review this fic, and all my fics in general. It means so much to me and you're all awesome people for even just taking time out of your lives to read one of my fics. So, thank you, and enjoy.

Chapter 16

'Come here,' she sighed, taking hold of the black fabric round his neck and tying it up to form a neat bow. He was dressed up tonight, in an all black suit and crisp white shirt, his hair even wilder then it had been before; John had refused a haircut. Ever since they had convinced him to have chemotherapy he had made it clear that his hair wasn't to be messed with, and in fact he would let 'nature run its course.' His eyes, although brought out by his black suit, were drooping annoyingly.

'Do we have to go to this?' He whined.

Clara watched him while she put another earring in place. 'Yes.'

'I don't really see the fucking point. A bunch of people who are forced together against our will then go out to have dinner and share shit jokes because it's Christmas.'

'Yeah, that's usually how it works.'

'I just don't get it,' he said, turning his back now, 'I'm the boss. I should decide whether or not to reunite round a dinner table.'

'You're not going to be the boss much longer anyway, John. You'll resign and then I'll be off to Coal Hill a few months later and you won't have to worry about money or businesses or bills. You need to get better, and that's what you're going to do.'

He dropped his head, and Clara sensed maybe she had gone too far. They had discussed everything already but she knew it was a painful topic for John. He always liked to be in charge of his own company and his own life. Suddenly he was rivalling cancer to do that.

'I don't want anyone to see me like this.' He finally admitted, playing with the cuff on his shirt.

Clara immediately softened and walked over to him, spun him around and fell into his arms.

'You don't look any different,' she said, 'honestly. As soon as you start looking different and losing hair you're leaving and you're never going to see them again. Okay?' He looked at her sincerely and nodded. It was just as painful to know that his body will change and his hair will fall out but it didn't stop the crashing waves of love falling over her whenever she looked in his eyes.

'Okay? It will only be for a few hours, anyway.'

'That's long enough,' he grumbled.

'Now, stop wallowing in your Scottish melancholic doom, will you? It's nearly time to go.'

She grabbed her phone and purse and exited the room. John followed, crashing back down on the sofa where he had stayed all evening prior.

'Nope,' she grabbed his arm and tried to haul him up. Ultimately he conceded and put on his coat. He was like an overgrown child sometimes, she thought, amused.

She continuously loved the way his arms enveloped hers as they revved off into the night. Warm and comforting, his head now rested on her shoulder, no doubt closing his eyes to the rush of night air. Once they had swerved into the car park Clara realised that they must have arrived a bit too late. Nearly every parking space held a car. John couldn't help smile at the fact. She took his hand in hers and leaned upward to kiss him. She didn't doubt that the night would be long but she knew that John wouldn't be socialising much so she could stay around him for the duration.

As the door swung open and they entered the room, dozens of faces turned to them and politely welcomed them. Clara knew John was already very much out of his comfort zone.

The hall was quite big, a small tree stood in the corner and the long dinner table was already set up with cutlery and plates. They had decided that they would hold their Christmas party somewhere different to the boring office; it would be a chance to see what everyone was like outside of work. And many, she realised, were dressed up so nicely she couldn't recognise them. As soon as they had abandoned their coats, Rose came flying toward her to hug her tightly. Clara smiled at the embrace. Rose had been her friend ever since she turned up at the publishers.

'How are you?' She asked, 'it feels like we haven't seen you for ages!'

'We're fine. I guess we just needed a break from the work environment, but we're thankful for the invitation.'

Behind her, John snorted. She threw him a threatening glance and he instantly feigned innocence.

'How are you, John? We were all sorry to hear about your accident.'

He smiled, albeit forcefully. 'I'm good now, thank you. Tell me, has Martha filled in nicely for me?'

'Some people would say much nicer.' She teased.

From behind him, someone spun him round. It was River.

'You look great, John! We all missed you while you were away.' She beamed, her hands round each shoulder.

'Missed his shouting and swearing, you mean,' a voice said, and Jack appeared to break the awkward silence and shake John's hand. Clara squeezed the hand she was holding as River smiled at her and sidled away. She looked up at Jack and grinned, hugging him tightly. She felt her feet leave the floor and then he set her back down with his shining white smile. His boyfriend Ianto was behind him, and they both took his hand in greeting. After a few minutes of small talk Clara and John drifted over to the buffet spread table.

'Didn't I tell you everyone would be asking me questions about my 'accident.' He whispered.

'At least Jack didn't.' She replied. In fact, Jack hadn't talked about anything but the sharp suit John was wearing. Clara had to contain giggles at the look on John's face.

'Be nice.' She told him, wrapping his arm around her waist. 'They're not gonna bite your head off. Treat them like you don't know them. And don't think about how so and so pissed you off at work that time so they don't deserve your attention.'

As if on cue, Danny Pink wandered up to her and Clara felt the hand slipping from her waist. John slowly edged away to talk to a group of colleagues. Clara had to bite her cheeks to keep from laughing at John's expression.

Danny looked up once, to where John had been and then settled for an easy smile. 'How are you, Clara?'

'I'm great.' She replied, sipping from her champagne flute and studying his attire. He wore an appropriately pink shirt and blue jeans. Clara couldn't help a smile evolving on her lips.

'What about you?'

'I'm good, yeah. It's a shame I didn't see you at work before this.'

'Yeah, I know, we both needed a bit of a break from it.'

'Well, you look beautiful.' He smiled.

'You don't look too bad either.'

He laughed in response. 'Look, I-' he began, and Clara was just on the verge of feeling uncomfortable when John's hand took her champagne and set it down on the table.

'Come dance with me.' He said quietly.

Clara raised her eyebrows at him. 'Now there's four words I never thought you'd say,' she smiled, silently thanking him for interrupting what could have been a very awkward conversation. She mouthed a 'sorry' at Danny and let John glide her away, further into a crowd of bodies all dancing together to the music.

'What were you doing with Pink?' He asked, taking her hand in his and slipping the other back round her waist again.

'Nothing exciting.' She replied. 'Who were you talking to?'

'Maintenance people. The ones that actually work the machines downstairs.'

'Did you actually have polite conversations with them?'

'Well, I was in a tuxedo among jeans and t-shirts. Not many.'

She laughed, wondering if the world would point and stare too terribly if she kissed him. John seemed to have been thinking the same thing, as he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. She could tell he had chickened out at the last second.

She surveyed her surroundings, but no one was watching. She smiled against him when she kissed him properly, arms enfolding tighter around her body. She let go and fixed him a stare, admiring the suit that fit him perfectly, sharp black and white looking dreamy amongst the freshly shaven skin and downy curls of untamed hair. She didn't tear her eyes off him as they danced slowly across the floor.

'Are you ready for dinner?' River called over to them, amongst a sea of chairs and tables. Clara woke from her daydream and realised they were the few people still on the dancefloor; everyone else were sitting down to their places around the table. Clara almost had to drag John to their seats. Leaning into him, she whispered. 'Do you want to talk about it or shall I?'

They had agreed to announce John's departure from the business and, very much reluctantly, he had also agreed to tell them why. As alcohol was passed around the table and plates were being filled up, Clara felt his hand over her thigh, straining comfort. Everyone started to talk to each other and Clara placed her own hand over his, stroking his fingers. She could tell he already felt left out and odd as he ordered a pint of orange juice.

'So, what actually happened then? If you don't mind me asking?' Martha, who sat directly opposite them, said. John grimaced but hid it politely beneath a forced smile.

'Well, I was basically being stupid and ended up fainting into a very minor coma. It won't happen again.' He tried to smile. Martha looked more concerned than joking.

'What did you do?' She pressed.

'He got himself drunk and decided to retry smoking.' Clara cut in.

'Oh. Did you consume too much, then?' Donna asked.

'Yes, partly. But the real reason he became ill was because of his cancer.' Clara said it as quickly as possible and she could see how John had closed his eyes when she had said it. Nearly the whole table had gone quiet from shock.

'Did you just say he had cancer?' River asked, startled at the very thought.

'He has cancer, yes. That's why he's resigning as manager. We decided to tell you now so you can sort out moving all of his stuff out the office and appointing a new manager.'

The table grew eerily quiet. Clara bristled under the weight of everyone's gazes.

'That's...that's awful, John. I'm really sorry.' River replied, her tone dramatically meaningful.

'It's okay. I'm okay,' John announced, exactly as Clara knew he would. Cool and collected. 'If it weren't for Clara, I wouldn't be saying that. I wouldn't have been saying anything if it weren't for her.'

What shocked her the most was the way he had said it like simple fact, with such conviction it almost took her breath away. Under the table her hand squeezed his in gratefulness.

Nearly the whole table now was silent, waiting to hear more about his illness. Yet Clara had promised not to drag it on too long, as John was hardly the most willing to be centre of attention.

'Is it curable? Can they treat it?' Martha asked.

John bristled awkwardly. 'No. No, not exactly.'

Martha gasped in response and the rest of the table either threw pitiful glances their way, or stared at them with shocked eyes and gaping mouths. Clara didn't think there was a sentence so painful to hear as that one, and it sat horribly at the forefront of her brain, teasing and tormenting that he could never get better. It crushed her deeply, but she didn't show it.

'That must be very hard for you.'

John nodded solemnly and took a sip of his orange juice to try defuse the tension.

'Well, we're not going to let it beat us down.' Clara replied strongly, turning to John with a blazingly confident smile. It was more like a private reassurance to him more than anyone else, but the table seemed to murmur in agreement. She bravely leaned upward to kiss his cheek, clean-shaven and smooth, and uncaring of how she was behaving in front of everyone else. She felt John go red but she was happy she displayed her affection; all the fear and worry of the past made everything seem so irrelevant that she took every minute of the day laboriously devoting time and affection to John without hesitation. Again, the table hummed in an almost silence, but suddenly a voice broke out from further down the line of chairs, and a smile replaced the sombre shock of her face. River raised a glass in toast, and directed it at the two of them. Clara, to say the least, was most pleasantly surprised.

'Well, whatever happens, you'll always be the office romance.'

Now both of them were blushing but Clara couldn't help feeling secretly pleased, and heavily relieved. She and John had successfully survived an ongoing battle of work and relationship and now, having heard that, she was smiling almost modestly at the idea of the two of them being an 'office romance.'

Everyone else raised their glasses and as Clara and John raised theirs, she caught his eyes twinkling in bemusement, and watched an endearing smile play on his lips as he mouthed 'I love you.'

Clara beamed in response and leaned into him, unable to imagine someone else more perfect than the man sitting beside her.

'I love you too.' She whispered, grinning in pride and love at him. As she comprehended his kaleidoscopic blue eyes, she forgot completely about everyone else around her, all the raised hands to toast and drink, they all faded away into the background. Finally, her love had come back from the dead.


End file.
